


Vibrations

by poeticfish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Deaf Character, Deaf Dean, Deaf Dean Winchester, Depression, Destiel - Freeform, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hospital, Human Castiel, Human Gabriel, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Music, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-04-10 17:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4400408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poeticfish/pseuds/poeticfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas never would have guessed that he'd tell another human being the things he normally only told the moon. But then that deaf guy showed up at the music store, and, well, "Fuck the moon."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hospitals and music stores are two very different places.

In a hospital, your life can change forever. You can find out that your life is going to end or that someone you love doesn't have much time left- or maybe you find out they're already gone. You can watch your best friend take their last breath or you can watch a new life begin. If you were to walk down the hallway of a hospital and you were able to see inside all the different rooms, you'd probably see crying in one of the hospital beds, surrounded by devastated family members and in another room a family would be hugging and crying tears of joy because the one in the hospital bed had just gotten the best news of their life rather than the worst news. You'd see a new mother kissing her baby for the first time and in another room you may even see a would-have-been father punching a wall because his baby didn't make it. You'd see someone holding back tears as they watch a loved one close their eyes for the last time and listening to the long beeping sound that hit them harder than a punch to the stomach. You'd see an old man close  _his_  eyes one last time, but with a small smile on his face because he could finally escape the years of loneliness and be with his friends and family who had already passed. All of this would be happening at the same time, in rooms only a few feet away from each other, all in that one building.

In a music store, your life doesn't normally change from the moment you walk in to the moment you walk out. You don't experience any extreme emotions in a music store. The most excitement you'll usually feel is when a song you really like comes on or you finally get the guitar you've been wanting, and the most disappointment you'll feel is when they don't have any CDs by a band you like. You only stay in a music store for a short amount of time, and you normally don't remember the day that you went there because it's not usually a significant event in your life.

This story takes place during a point in time where my life revolved around being in those two places- a hospital and a music store. I didn't particularly enjoy being in either of those places, but I had no choice.

I needed a job, so my brother got me one at the music store he worked at. I was thankful to have the job, of course, but I also absolutely hated it. It required talking to people much more than I was comfortable with, and I often didn't know the answers to the questions I was asked. I didn't really listen to much music- just whatever was on the radio when I was driving, and I never really bothered to learn the names of the bands or songs that I liked the sound of. Still to this day I'm not sure who Coldplay is, but I was once asked about their new album so many times in one day that I yelled at my boss to order some copies of it because I was so sick hearing about it. I still hate Coldplay because of that incident and I still refuse to ever listen to them. Is that fair of me? No. Will I ever change my mind? It's doubtful.

I also didn't know the first thing about any different guitar brands, so anyone who asked me a question related to that did not get a satisfying answer. There wasn't even a huge selection of guitars- just a few electrics and a few acoustics, so, really, why couldn't people just buy the one they liked and be done with it? Did they really need my input?

But despite all of this, I tried not to complain too much- at least, not out loud. I was lucky to have a job that enabled me to pay for my apartment, even if I hated it.

Being at my job was a lot better than what came after it almost every day, which was visiting my dad in the hospital. (But more about that later.) I was never nervous while working at the music store because I always knew what was going to happen. I was going to work behind the counter with my brother, fake my way through answering some people's questions, and put some CDs on the shelves. My life wasn't going to change, like it may have in the hospital.

Or, as these things always go, so I thought.

It was a normal morning. I drove to the mall that the music store was in and met my brother at the employee entrance so we could walk in together.

"Morning, baby bro," he greeted.

"Good morning, Gabriel," I replied, looking straight ahead as we began to walk through the mall. It wasn't open yet so it was quiet, and I loved it. The only people there were other employees opening up their own stores and a couple security guards.

"You look tired, Cas," Gabriel commented. "Did you sleep okay last night?"

"I slept fine." Alright, that was a lie. I'd been having horrible insomnia almost every night, and Gabriel knew it. I didn't want him to start worrying about me, though, so I rarely admitted that I couldn't sleep.

Things were normal for a while after that. Gabriel and I had the job of opening up that day, so we were the first ones in the store. With nothing to do until the mall opened, I sat up on the counter and sighed, looking around.

There were shelves of CDs everywhere, and I actually found it quite pretty to see all the different album covers lined up next to each other like that. It was like a disorganized rainbow full of people's creations, and I wondered how many of the songs in there I would like if I gave them a chance.

On one wall of the store, there was everything you needed to start playing guitar for some reason- picks, amplifiers, straps, cases, extra strings, tuners, and the instruments themselves. On the opposite wall, there were things like headphones, earbuds, and different types of speakers. There were even some drumsticks. None of that was as pretty as the album covers.

"I'm not looking forward to this month," Gabriel said, sitting next to me.

"Why not?" I asked.

"It's November. People are going to start holiday shopping soon."

"I don't think people start this early," I replied. "At least, I hope they don't..."

"It seems to be starting earlier and earlier every year." Gabriel shrugged. "I hope they don't, too."

When the mall opened and customers started arriving, things were pretty slow, much to my relief. It wasn't until much later that it happened- the moment that things started being not-so-normal.

Gabriel and I were behind the counter, ringing people's items up. Just as I finished putting a pair of headphones in a bag for one woman, she left and two guys took her place. Sometimes I recognized people who came to the store often, or even just a couple of times, but I knew for a fact that these guys had never gone there before, at least not when I was working. I definitely would have remembered them.

The taller one with longer hair had eyes similar to my brother's, and when he smiled, it was with his eyes as well as his mouth. Still, there was a certain sadness there; kind of like the smile was just one small detail of an intricate plan to hide whatever was going on in his head. Maybe the reason I was so quick to pick up on that was because I'd used the same move of people before. Nice try, Random Guy I Was Over-Analyzing, but I could have seen through it from a mile away.

The shorter guy was a little more interesting. His eyes were probably the greenest eyes I'd ever seen, and he seemed to put them to good use. He was looking around the whole time, and he stayed completely silent. He seemed a little emotionless, too. I didn't get one smile from him, not even a fake one. I caught myself staring at him for a couple seconds and then snapped myself back into reality when they put about five CDs on the counter.

I quickly rang them up and bagged them. "Um, thirty two-fifty."

The shorter one handed me the money with exact change, and I gave him the bags.

"Thank you," the taller one said, giving me another one of those smiles that I still assumed were fake. "Have a nice day."

"You, too," I said and watched them leave.

"Smooth," Gabriel commented with a hint of his famous sarcasm.

I looked at him. "What are you talking about?"

"You were totally staring at the short quiet one."

I felt my face get hot. "I didn't mean to. Was it noticeable?"

Gabriel laughed a little, but I wasn't sure why. "Yeah, Cas, it was a little noticeable. Don't worry about it, though. He was cute. I'm sure he gets it all the time. Although... If I were you, I'd have been staring at the tall one."

I smiled a little. Gabriel always did that. He didn't like guys, but he wasn't embarrassed to say someone was cute or anything like that. I think it was his way of letting me know that he was completely comfortable with me not exclusively liking girls, which wasn't actually something I ever told him (or anyone else). He just figured it out. So, despite the fact that I'd never had a boyfriend or anything, he always pointed out guys he thought I would like when we were together and called guys cute. I never did either of those things, but I appreciated that he did.

"Oh, hey," Gabriel said, looking over the counter. "Someone dropped their wallet."

I went around to the other side of the counter and picked up the wallet before opening it and looking at the driver's license inside.

"It says... Sam Winchester," I said. "And it's the tall guy." I looked at my brother. "I'm going to go see if I can catch them."

Gabriel nodded and took my place at the register I'd been using, and I quickly walked over to the entrance of the music store to look out into the mall, trying to see if I could spot them. Not too far away, the shorter guy was sitting down on the bench across from the bathroom, looking around and twisting the handles of the plastic bag of CDs around two of his fingers. It seemed like no one else in the mall could see him, as if he was invisible or something. They walked right by him without even a single glance, and I wondered how they could just do that. I didn't really know what it was, but there was just something about him that made it hard for me not to look at him.

"Hey, Cas!" Gabriel called from inside the store, and I turned around to look at him. "I'm assuming that you found them, because in case you didn't realize it, you're staring again. You should probably go return the wallet."

"Oh. Right."

I left the store and walked over to the bench, and he looked up at me. I tried not to focus on how green his eyes were, but it was  _extremely_  distracting.

"Excuse me," I began awkwardly, "I think your friend dropped his wallet."

He stared at me, eyes growing slightly wider. When he spoke, it was almost a whisper. "I'm sorry?"

"Your friend, he dropped his wallet. Is his name Sam?"

I noticed that he watched my lips as I spoke. "Sam... Um... I'm sorry, can you say that... slower?"

Before I could say anything, the other guy returned from the bathroom and tapped my shoulder. I turned to look at him.

"Is there a problem?" He asked. He didn't say it in an intimidating way. In fact, he said it in a way that almost sounded concerned.

"No," I responded quickly. "I was just telling your friend that you left your wallet at the music store. Are you Sam Winchester?"

"I am," he confirmed.

"Here."

I gave him the wallet and he smiled. Again, I could see right through it. Acting happy because it's the polite thing to do... Oldest trick in the book. Still, though, I did appreciate the effort.

"Thanks so much," Sam said. "I didn't even realize I dropped it. Thank God you found it before anyone else did."

"I'm just glad I was able to return it," I replied. "It's a good thing I saw your friend, here."

"Oh, that's... He's actually my brother," Sam told me. "And, uh, he's deaf. Which... I'm only telling you that because he probably didn't, and if you had trouble talking to him, that's why."

I could honestly say that I wasn't expecting that, but it did explain a lot. He didn't really say anything because talking probably made him uncomfortable if he couldn't hear himself, and he was always looking around so much because he relied heavily on his sense of sight. He stared at my mouth when I spoke and asked me to speak more slowly because he was trying to read my lips.

"Oh," I said quietly. "I had no idea."

"Yeah, he doesn't really let people know most of the time," Sam replied. "It usually creates some awkward moments."

"Well, that's alright. My whole life is a series of awkward moments." Sam laughed, and I realized I still had a job to get back to. "Well, I should probably go back to work. It was nice meeting you, Sam. And... I'm sorry, what was your brother's name?"

"His name's Dean."

I turned to Sam's brother, who was still sitting down and said, a little more slowly than usual, "Nice meeting you, Dean."

He looked a little surprised that I'd said anything, but he smiled at me. Actually, I'm not sure if you could consider it a smile- it was more like the corner of his mouth twitching just enough for me to be able to notice it. Even still, it was nice to see. I wasn't quite sure why it made me happy to see some random stranger almost smile, though.

When I returned to the music store, Gabriel was leaning against the counter with a lollipop in his mouth.

"Slow day," he said. "You give that cute guy your number?"

I shook my head. "No, but I don't think he'd call me, anyway."

"Aw, come on, baby bro. Don't say stuff like that."

"Gabriel, you don't understand."

"What, did you embarrass yourself or something?"

I shook my head. "No, that's not why."

"Then what is it?"

"He's deaf."

Gabriel took the lollipop out of his mouth and looked thoughtful. "Hm, yeah, that might make phone calls a little unenjoyable. You still should have given him your number, though. You could always text. Come on, I can tell that you like him."

Gabriel shrugged and put the lollipop back in his mouth. "But I think you'd be cute together."

"Don't say... That's weird, Gabriel." I sighed. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. He's just some random person I'll probably never even see again."

"Fine, whatever you say, Cas. But if he comes back to this store again, that's a sign that I should give him your number and I'm definitely going to. Never seen you stare at someone like that before."

I rolled my eyes as Gabriel winked at me and went to help a customer who's just approached the counter.

For the rest of the day, I wasn't exactly focusing on what I was doing. Actually, I  _really_  wasn't, at all. For some strange reason, I found myself thinking about Dean much more than I should have been thinking about someone I didn't even know. It was the first time that had ever happened, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it.

My shift ended about an hour later, and Gabriel and I could finally leave. However, we wouldn't be going home just yet. Like I said, at this point in my life, I was spending most of my time in two places- the music store and the hospital. I was done at the music store for the day. Time for the hospital.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looked... nice.

I suppose I should explain my family situation. My mother died shortly after I was born (heart problems, Gabriel told me) and my dad was never really around much. He stayed out on most nights, and I think the only times I ever really saw him were in the mornings before I left for school. He'd usually be asleep on the couch after a long night of whatever it was that he did at night (most likely nothing good). And then, when I was seventeen and Gabriel was twenty, he left and was gone without a trace. We were on our own, but luckily Gabriel already had an apartment that I practically lived in anyway, so I just moved all of my things there. All we ever got was a letter saying he was sorry and not to look for him. We tried calling so many times, but eventually our calls didn't even go through anymore, and it was assumed that he'd gotten rid of his old cell phone. I tried to find him for a while but after months of failure Gabriel convinced me that it was useless. I eventually finished school, moved out of my brother's apartment to rent my own, and got my job at the music store. Then came the day when Gabriel received the call that our dad had lung cancer, because who else were they going to call?

I don't know how I would have described my feelings toward my father at that point, except for maybe like this: remember my unfair hatred for Coldplay? Well, if there were four members of Coldplay and they, along with my dad, were all hanging off a cliff and I could only save four people, I'd have saved the members of Coldplay.

However I also knew that if I didn't visit my dad in the hospital, no one would, and nobody should have to die alone (assuming he was eventually going to die, of course- the doctors didn't seem to think things were looking too good). Besides, if he died without us ever speaking to him again, we'd undoubtedly feel guilty beyond belief.

So anyway, Gabriel and I left the mall. He was parked in the employees' parking lot and I was parked on the street, so we separated. I shoved my hands in the pockets of my trench coat as I walked. Dean had finally left my mind and the confusing emotions were replaced with a physical shock to how cold it was.

When I got to where I'd parked my car, I was slightly horrified to see that it wasn't there anymore. I knew that was where I'd parked it, right in that spot, right in front of... that fire hydrant. Oops.

"Dammit," I cursed under my breath, taking my cell phone out so I could call Gabriel. But since I was having such amazing luck, my phone was dead. He'd probably already left by now, and if he hadn't, he definitely would have by the time I walked back to the employees' parking lot. So there I was, on the side of the road, running my fingers through my hair and pacing a bit, trying to figure out what I should do.

"Hey!" someone called from across the street. "Need a ride?"

I looked up to see none other than Sam Winchester standing next to a nice-looking old black car, and he waved at me. Dean was there, too, leaning against the car, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw him. I ignored the foreign feeling and quickly crossed the street to go talk to them.

"You looked a little lost," Sam said.

"I... I guess my car got towed," I explained. "I parked it right there, but-"

"In front of the fire hydrant?"

"Yeah. I, uh, didn't sleep very well last night," I answered. "Do you have a phone I could borrow? Mine is dead, and I just have to call my brother."

"Sure," Sam replied, taking his phone out of his pocket and handing it to me.

I thanked him and began dialing Gabriel's number as I was able to see Sam say something in sign language to Dean in my peripheral vision.

The phone didn't even ring before going straight to voicemail, and I figured Gabriel's phone must have been dead, as well. I sighed and hung up before giving the phone back to Sam. "We didn't charge our phones all day, so I guess his must be dead, too."

"Well, we can give you a ride," Sam offered.

"You really wouldn't mind?"

"Not at all. I kind of owe you for finding my wallet, anyway. C'mon, get in."

He signed something to Dean again, probably explaining what was going on, and then opened one of the back doors for me. I got in the back, choosing to sit in the middle rather than behind one of them, and the brothers got in the front- Sam in the driver's seat and Dean in the passenger's seat.

"So, what's your name, anyway?" Sam asked as he started the car and began driving, looking at me in the rear-view mirror.

"Oh, it's Castiel," I answered. "But usually people just call me Cas."

"Well, Cas, where do you live?"

"Actually, could you take me to Lawrence Memorial Hospital, please?" I responded. "I have to visit someone there and my brother is going to be wondering where I am if I don't go. He'll be able to drive me home later."

"No problem, then. We just have to stop at the next gas station," Sam told me.

He then turned the radio on, and an old classic rock song started playing pretty loudly. Dean put his hands on the dashboard and looked at his brother. "We gonna listen to the same AC/DC tape every day, Sammy?"

"You put one in, then," Sam replied, turning his head so Dean could read his lips but not taking his eyes off the road.

Dean shrugged and opened the glove compartment, going through a bunch of tapes until he apparently found one that he liked enough to play. When the new tape was in, more classic rock started playing, and Dean put his hands back on the dashboard, keeping them there this time.

"How does he know what song is playing?" I asked Sam.

"Oh, he can feel the vibrations," Sam answered. "He's memorized how the vibrations of some of the songs he liked when he could hear feel."

"That's... That's amazing."

"Yeah, it is, isn't it? Oh, there's a gas station."

So we stopped, and Sam turned the car off. He told us he'd be right back and then went to pay for the gas.

"Don't forget your wallet," I said, half-jokingly and Sam laughed as he got out of the car.

Then it was just me and Dean. When Dean turned around to look at me, I felt my heart start to beat a little faster.

"Do you have a piece of paper?" he asked softly. I had to wonder if he made a conscious effort to speak quietly all the time because he was afraid that otherwise he'd be too loud.

"Oh, um... Let me see..."

I reached in my pocket and took out a receipt from the music store that someone had forgotten, handing it to Dean. He thanked me and got a pen from the glove compartment, then used the armrest as a surface to write on.

I tilted my head and watched him write. He looked... nice. The sun was starting to go down, so his face was lit by only a small amount of warm light. He looked like he was concentrating so hard, green eyes cast downwards, eyebrows furrowed. Suddenly I realized how close our faces were, and I swallowed hard.

He handed me the receipt that now had his writing on the back of it, and I read the small handwriting.  _Sorry I made it awkward for you today. Should've told you I can't hear. I know Sam already told you this, but I'm Dean._

He held the pen out, offering it to me, and I took it. I was glad that we were able to communicate this way, because it was a little uncomfortable just speaking and hoping he could read my lips.

I wrote a response and gave the receipt back to him.  _Hello, Dean. I'm Castiel, but you can call me Cas. And you don't have to apologize._

He did that almost-smiling thing again, and before either of us could say (or, rather, write) anything else, Sam got back in the car.

"All set," he told us, and began driving again.

We arrived at the hospital a few minutes later after a ride where the only sound at all was classic rock playing from the radio. I kept glancing at Dean, not wanting to stare again but desperately wanting to continue looking at him. Should I not have been thinking that way about someone, I wondered? It was a new thought for me.

"Are you sure you're going to have a ride home?" Sam questioned. "Because if not, we can park in the lot and wait for you."

"I'm sure my brother is here already," I answered. "Thank you so much for the ride, I really appreciate it."

"No problem. Seeya, Cas."

Dean turned around and waved a little. I smiled at him, and then looked at Sam. "Bye."

I got out of the car and watched them drive away before going over to the main entrance of the hospital, the one Gabriel and I always used. My brother was standing next to the doorway, leaning against the wall, and stood up straight when he saw me.

"Cas!" he exclaimed. "What took you so long? We left at the same time, and you usually get here first! I was starting to get worried, man."

"My car got towed," I explained. "I had to get a ride."

"Who did you get a ride from?"

"Remember Sam and Dean?"

"Sam's the guy who dropped the wallet, right?"

I nodded. "And Dean is his brother. You know, the deaf one."

"Are you serious?! Cas, that's more of a sign than them coming back to the store!" As Gabriel was talking, we entered the hospital and began expertly navigating the familiar hallways. "I really hope you gave him your number."

"I didn't," I confessed.

"Well, did you talk to him at least?"

"Yes. Well, kind of. We wrote on a piece of paper to talk to each other."

"What'd you say? Or, you know, write?"

"I don't really know. Nothing much. It wasn't anything important."

We got to the elevator that would bring us to the floor our dad's room was on, and I was very thankful that we were the only two people in there because Gabriel just didn't want to stop with the questions. 

"So, do you like him?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I just..." I shifted uncomfortably, knowing Gabriel was the only person I'd ever talk to about something like this. "I... don't know. But why does it matter so much to you, anyway? You seem far too interested."

Gabriel shrugged. "Wanna see you happy, baby bro. I don't think I've seen you in a relationship since high school."

"You can't really say anything. I don't think I've ever seen you in an actual relationship. Just a bunch of random girls every now and then."

"Hey, that's what makes me happy. And I believe a relationship would make you happy. Possibly one with a cute deaf guy."

The elevator stopped and we got out, beginning the walk down our last long hallway.

"We'll see what happens," I said, hoping this would wrap up the conversation.

It did not. "I don't know, Cas. I think you have a chance with him."

"What makes you think that?"

"I don't  _know_. I can just feel it."

We finally, finally arrived in the correct waiting room. It was quiet, and there were only a few people sitting in there.

"This discussion is not over," Gabriel whispered.

"This discussion is absolutely over," I hissed back.

We approached the lady at the desk, one of the many nurses we'd met, and she recognized us immediately.

"Ah, Cas and Gabe Novak. You're back," she said. "I'm not sure if your dad is awake right now but you're welcome to go right in."

We thanked her and went down the small narrow hallway that began on the other side of the room until we got to the third door down. It was half-open, so Gabriel pushed it the rest of the way open and we welcomed ourselves inside.

My father was asleep. He was lying there in the hospital bed, hooked up to a few different machines, with his eyes closed and a lot less hair than he had back when he was first diagnosed with lung cancer. He wasn't a very peaceful sleeper; he kind of looked angry, somehow.

"What should we do?" Gabriel asked me quietly.

"I don't know." I paused. "Are we supposed to wake him up?"

"I don't think we're not supposed to wake him," Gabriel replied with a shrug. "But I don't want to do it."

"I don't want to do it, either."

"Should we... leave a note?" Gabriel suggested.

"What would we write?"

"Well, what would we say if he was awake?"

We were both silent for a few seconds, staring at our father. What  _would_ I say if he was awake? What had I said the last few times we visited? I think all we really talked about was how he was feeling and how our jobs were going. We never asked him about where he'd been for the past ten years, about what he possibly could have been doing. We never told him what we'd been doing in that time, which was mainly just working whatever jobs we could get to pay for our apartments and eventually quitting every single one because they just weren't working out, until we were able to get our current jobs, which were working out very well.

None of that ever came up. Our conversations never got too personal- it was mainly just forced small talk until the visit came to an end. It was not enjoyable for me, it was not enjoyable for Gabriel, and I don't see how it was enjoyable for my dad, but he never protested us coming back the next day. I wouldn't either, though, if I were in his position, I suppose. Gabriel and I were all he had. He spent his days going through everything he had to go through all alone, with only the company of a few nurses who took care of him.

Still, it had to have at least been a little uncomfortable for him. Could he tell that we were mad at him? Why didn't he ever apologize for leaving? If he could just do that, we could get the emotional conversation out of the way, forgive him, and have fun visits. There was a good chance he could die in that hospital. You'd think he would have wanted to make up with his sons before that.

"Yeah, we're gonna just leave a note," Gabriel decided, snapping me back into reality.

He grabbed the notepad and pen on the table next to our dad's bed, and quickly scribbled something before ripping the page out and leaving it on the table, the pen on top of it.

"What did you write?" I asked, and looked at the paper.  _Hi, Dad- stopped by but you were asleep. Hope you're feeling okay. See you tomorrow. Love, Cas and Gabe._  "Gabriel, you wrote 'love.'"

"Yeah, that's normally what people do for these things, isn't it?"

"We... haven't told Dad we love him since.... what, ten years ago? Eleven?"

"Then maybe it's about time," Gabriel answered simply. "Look, Cas, he's not my favorite person, either. But he's still our dad whether we like it or not. And since we couldn't actually talk to him today, at least this will make him kind of happy."

"Okay, I guess you're right."

"Come on, let's get going. I'm hungry."

"Alright. You're driving me home, by the way."

"Perfect, we can stop for food together, then."

We started walking back. We passed by a man sitting on a bench that was facing a window in one of the hallways, hands in his lap, looking out at the dark sky. I didn't get a good look at his face, but I was pretty sure he was crying. I wondered what had happened to him. Maybe somebody died. I'd never know. But more importantly, I wondered if it would be me and Gabriel sitting there like that any time soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Just because I'm deaf doesn't mean I can't communicate. I don't see why that's so hard for people to get. So when someone does get that, I really appreciate it. So I guess I'm really just trying to say thank you. For trying to talk to me, I mean."
> 
> I waited for him to look up at me before responding. "Well, I've been enjoying it."

Nine o'clock.

I knew better than to start that early.

Ten o'clock.

I was tired enough to want to go to bed.

Eleven o'clock.

I'd been in bed for an hour.

Twelve o'clock.

Had I really just been lying there for two hours?

One o'clock.

Well, obviously I wasn't going to be getting any sleep anytime soon.

I sighed and sat up in bed, somehow feeling significantly less tired than I did three hours ago. Yet I knew that when it was time to leave for work, I was going to feel like I'd just run five miles and hadn't slept in three days. How did that work?

For a few minutes I just sat there, waiting to see if my tired feeling from before would return, but I was more awake than ever. I sighed heavily, getting up and putting a sweatshirt on before walking over to the other side of my small bedroom. There was a window there, and it was honestly probably my favorite spot in my apartment. I leaned against the windowsill and looked outside.

The sky was dark, of course, only illuminated by a few stars and the moon. I suppose I had a love-hate relationship with the moon. I often got up in the middle of the night and, with nothing else to do, had one-sided conversations with it- the moon, I mean. It was great because I could talk all I wanted about whatever I wanted without the fear of having another person judge me or offer their unwanted advice, but it was horrible because sometimes I got carried away with these conversations and poured my heart out to absolutely no one. When I say that I got carried away, I truly mean it. I would start shaking and crying, screaming words that were painful leaving my throat and even more painful to leave just hanging there in the space between me and the sky.

I would give some examples, but to be honest, it was hard to remember what I got so emotional about. A lot of times I'm pretty sure that it was something related to my father, but it could also occasionally be about something extremely minor, maybe something at work that had managed to get me really mad. And then almost always there were some self-loathing comments and mentions of insomnia. Then there were times where everything coming out of my mouth was just somewhat poetic nonsense, words that I just allowed to spill out and had no control over. These were the ones that I really could never remember. By the next morning, whatever I'd said had usually completely left my mind somehow. But I never felt better about it. You know how they say that if you just get it all out you'll feel better? That didn't seem to be true, at least not in my experience. My process was trying to get it all out, having some sort of emotional breakdown, sleeping for a much-too-short amount of time, waking up, feeling horrible, and pretending the whole thing had never happened. From there I went on with my day and then the whole thing would repeat again.

Sometimes I questioned whether all of this was healthy or not, but then I compared it to someone who kept a journal or something. This was basically the same thing, I just wasn't writing any of it down. The whole extreme emotional distress thing was a bit of a difference and also a little bit concerning, but I suppose I chose to ignore that.

"Let's see, what should I say tonight?" I wondered aloud, cupping my cheek with my hand and leaning on the windowsill with my elbow. "I don't think I have much to say. I want to go to sleep, but I know that's not going to happen just yet. Why am I not tired? ...It's as if I expect a rock in the sky to have all the answers. I... I really can't do much right, can I? Can't really talk to people. Can't really express anything in a healthy way. I can't even fall asleep."

I felt tears sting my eyes and immediately wiped them away with my sleeve. I didn't want this to be one of the emotional breakdown nights. I didn't want to cry because that would make me even angrier at myself.

"I wish I was better at the whole... communicating thing," I continued. "If I was, maybe I could say something to Dad. Maybe I could make everything better between us. Until now I was mad at him for not saying anything, but why is it all on him? Should I be the one who has to do it? ...If Gabriel did it, that would be great. All someone has to do is bring up those years that he was gone. It would be that simple. Why is no one else doing it? I don't want it to be me, I don't..." I realized my voice was getting louder and a tear was rolling down my cheek so I made myself stop and take a few deep breaths. "I can't do it. I can't. He's going to die without me ever having said anything. Things have already been stressful but if he dies... I don't..." I tried to finish the sentence, but all that came out was a small strangled sob and I put a hand over my eyes. I didn't even know why I seemed to be getting so upset over things lately. This was the definition of extreme stress, of anger and melancholy, of feeling all of these things at the same time. It had to be.

And I wanted it to stop.

//

"Cas... Man... Are you okay?" Gabriel asked as I got in his car the next morning so he could drive me to work.

"I'm fine," I replied. "Why do you ask?"

"I have never seen you look so tired," Gabriel commented.

"Thank you," I responded sarcastically. "That really gives me the confidence to get through this day."

"I'm sorry, just... How much sleep did you get last night?"

"Enough." Three hours. I'd gotten three hours. That was becoming my average lately.

"Are you sure? Maybe you should call in sick and take a day to-"

"Gabriel. Really. I'm alright," I promised. "We should go. We have to open today."

"Okay, okay. Whatever."

So he drove us to the mall and we parked. Gabriel was smarter than to park in front of a fire hydrant, thankfully.

It was another normal morning full of answering questions I didn't really know how to answer and cringing every time I had to ring up a Coldplay CD.

Gabriel and I were putting some CDs on the shelves when Gabriel tapped me on the shoulder. "Hey, your boyfriend is back, baby bro."

"What are you talking about?" I replied.

He pointed to the entrance of the store. "Look who just walked in."

And when I looked over there I saw none other than Dean Winchester, standing there with his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looking around. He started inspecting the small shelf at the front of the store, where all the new and popular albums were featured.

"Oh. It's Dean," I said quietly.

"I bet he came back to see you," Gabriel said with a wink.

"There is no doubt in my mind that that is not the case."

But for a few seconds, I couldn't help considering the possibility of my brother's theory. Dean's car only played tapes, so why would he be looking at CDs? I quickly shook the thought out of my head, the more logical side of me pointing out that there were probably dozens of possible explanations.

"You should go talk to him," Gabriel told me.

"No... I can't. This isn't the place for that," I said. "I'm at work, Gabriel."

"Then go give him a friendly greeting and ask him if you can help him find anything. As employees often do."

"Well... I guess... I guess I could do that."

I put the CD in my hand down and Gabriel patted my back as I walked over to Dean. I gently touched his arm to get his attention- I wanted him to look at me so he could read my lips (hopefully), but I didn't want to scare him by approaching him too suddenly... if that was something that ever happened to him. I couldn't really imagine what being deaf was like.

"Hello, Dean," I said, somewhat quietly, when he looked at me. I focused on the movement of my lips rather than what my voice actually sounded like. It wasn't like that mattered. "Do you need help finding anything?"

He stared at me for a second, green eyes wide and lips slightly parted. "Um... No, I... Actually, yes. I'm looking for some music that doesn't suck. I found my old radio last night, and all I have is tapes, and... it doesn’t play tapes."

"What kind of music do you like?" I asked.

"Say that slower."

"Sorry," I mumbled. It was easy to forget he couldn't hear. He usually spoke perfectly, even if it was a little quieter than most people, and apparently he wasn't bad at reading lips, after all. But I repeated my question, exaggerating the movements of my mouth a bit. "What kind of music do you like?"

"Good music. Classic rock." He looked at the shelf we were standing in front of. "None of this. Who's Coldplay?"

"No one good," I told him. "I'll show you the rock section."

He followed me down one of the aisles, and I gestured to one of the shelves. He looked thoughtful as he stared at the selection of CDs.

"Can't seem to find anything," Dean mumbled.

I tilted my head to the side, wondering what bands he might like besides AC/DC, and grabbed a Def Leppard CD, holding it up to show him. "This, maybe?"

He glanced at the CD. "Clever, Cas. Give a Def Leppard CD to a deaf guy."

My eyes widened. "Oh, no, I didn't mean-"

"Relax!" Dean exclaimed, replacing my embarrassment with relief. "Relax. I'm completely fucking with you. I do like Def Leppard. What album is this, Euphoria? Yeah, this is good. I'll take this. Ring me up?"

I nodded, still in shock a bit from Dean's little joke. "Um, sure."

We walked over to the front counter where Gabriel was bagging something for a random woman, and his eyebrows shot up when he saw Dean and I walking together. I ignored him, taking the register next to his and ringing up the CD.

"Ten ninety nine," I told Dean.

He stared at me blankly, unable to understand what I'd said, and I pointed to the total on his receipt. He nodded and took some money out of his pocket, counting it carefully before handing it to me with exact change, just like last time.

"Thank you," I said. "Do you want the receipt?"

I held out the slip of paper to help let him know what I was talking about.

"Oh, no, that's okay. You keep that. Maybe we'll need it to be able to talk to each other again," Dean joked.

I smiled a little. "So we'll be talking again?"

"I'd like to."

I looked down, suddenly getting an idea and gaining a bit of confidence. I grabbed a pen that was lying on the counter and put Dean's receipt down on the counter so I could write him a note.

_My lunch break is in ten minutes. Want to meet me at the food court and get lunch together?_

He looked down at the note and gave me another one of those almost-smiles. "So you're asking me to lunch, Cas?"

I nodded, now a little nervous.

"Well, how convenient. I'm pretty hungry," Dean said. "I'll see you there."

He waved a little as he left, and I smiled to myself when he was gone.

"Did you just get a date?" Gabriel questioned.

I felt my face get hot. "It's not a date."

"Whatever. I'm just glad you asked him out before I had to embarrass the crap out of you by giving him your number."

"I didn't ask him out, we're just... getting lunch together."

"So defensive," Gabriel commented. "You have such a huge crush on him, don't you?"

"Gabriel, I swear..."

My brother laughed. "Calm down. I know you're just annoyed because you have to wait ten minutes to see your boyfriend."

I rolled my eyes, not at all surprised by Gabriel's teasing. In a way, though, he was right. Those ten minutes seemed to pass by more slowly than anything in my entire life. I wasn't exactly sure why was so eager to see Dean, but when it was finally time for my lunch break, I practically bolted out of the store and took the escalator from the first floor up to the third floor where the food court was located. 

It wasn't hard to spot Dean, even though the food court was pretty crowded. He stood out more than anyone I'd ever met for some reason. He was sitting in one of the tables near the windows by himself, inspecting the back of the Def Leppard CD, and I went over to sit with him.

"Hi," he greeted. "I was just looking at the food selection, here. How do you feel about pizza?"

"Sounds good," I replied, nodding.

He took out his wallet and started counting some money.

"No, no, I'll pay," I told him, forgetting once again that he couldn't hear me. I needed him to look at me, so I reached across the table and gently touched his arm. It worked, so when he looked up at me, I repeated what I'd said before. "I'll pay."

Dean shook his head. "No, Cas, I'm not letting you pay for my food. I'm at least paying for my own. But, um... If you could be the one to go order, that would be really great... I don't like doing it if I don't have to..."

"Of course," I replied, taking the money he was handing me. "I'll be right back."

It was understandable that he wouldn't want to do this himself. I wouldn't, either, if I couldn’t hear. If you didn't know Dean was deaf, you really wouldn't guess it. And if you didn't know he was deaf, you'd just talk to him like you'd talk to someone who could hear, which made it awkward for everyone involved. I knew this from experience.

So I got two slices of pizza from one of the food stands and brought them back to our table, handing one to Dean. He thanked me, and we it was quiet for a minute while we ate.

"Hey, uh, can I tell you something?" Dean began, wiping his mouth with a napkin and looking at me, eyes wide as ever. "There was a reason I wanted to do this, you know."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Ah, well, people don't usually talk to me, you know. They find out I'm deaf and they don't talk to me. They don't get that I can read lips if you talk the right way and I can read things that they write down. I mean, like, you don't have to know sign language to be able to talk to me." He paused. "You're one of the very few people who didn't start ignoring me when you found out I couldn't hear."

"People just... ignore you?"

"Yeah, people ignore me. A lot of times if they want to talk to me they'll just make Sam translate what they're saying into sign language. They don't have to do that. I don't need my little brother to tell me what people are saying. And it's not his fault- he gets it. It's everyone else."

"I'm sorry," I said quietly.

"But you didn't do that," Dean continued. "Just because I'm deaf doesn't mean I can't communicate. I don't see why that's so hard for people to get. So when someone does get that, I really appreciate it. So I guess I'm really just trying to say thank you. For trying to talk to me, I mean."

I waited for him to look up at me before responding. "Well, I've been enjoying it."

And there it was. Dean smiled. Not his almost-smile, not a smirk, a real smile- teeth and all. And it was amazing. The fact that I'd never seen him smile like this before only made it more amazing to see now, and it was caused by something I'd said, which made me smile. It made my day. It erased my feelings of stress, anger, and melancholy. The feelings that I desperately wanted to stop... Well, when Dean smiled, they just... did.

Maybe Gabriel was right. Maybe I had a crush.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Gabriel, I don't like this."
> 
> He gave me a confused look. "What don't you like?"
> 
> "I keep thinking about him."

"Well, this has been fun," Dean said as the end of my lunch break was approaching. "I'm glad you asked me to lunch, Cas."

"I'm glad you said yes," I replied.

He started gathering our trash and cleaning up the table a bit, and I knew there was still one last thing I had to do. I took his receipt from before out of my pocket, along with a pen I'd taken from the music store, and quickly wrote something on the back of the slip of paper. After Dean threw our garbage away, I handed it to him.

_Dean,_

_I had fun. Please know that I don't have to "try" very hard to talk to you- it's quite easy and enjoyable. Text me if you'd like- 182-4130._

He smiled again and I felt that same feeling from before, that unbelievable happiness that I really couldn't believe was caused by just this one person's smile. "Thanks, Cas. I will."

It wasn’t a lie, that note. Dean had thanked me before for "trying" to talk to him, as if it was this extremely difficult task that only the bravest people would ever dare to attempt. In reality, though, talking to Dean was much easier than talking to pretty much anyone else, the only exception being Gabriel. It was hard to explain. My whole life, I'd felt like I just really wasn't great at talking to people, but with Dean, it was different. The uncomfortable feeling I got when talking to people I only just met seemed to become a thing of the past with Dean. I was able to calmly think about what I was going to say next and choose my words carefully, and for someone who couldn't hear, he really seemed like he was listening. It was just in other ways. His eyes were always on my lips when I spoke, and he paid close attention to the small movements I made. But there was no pressure, somehow. Like I said, it was hard to explain. All I really knew was that talking to him made me happy, and that was a nice change from how I usually felt when talking to people.

When I got back from the music store, Gabriel expected details immediately, meaning the second I was back behind the counter. Sadly, it was a slow afternoon, so I had no excuse to ignore him.

"Was it awkward? Like, was it quiet the whole time?" he asked.

"No... It wasn't quiet at all, actually," I answered. "We just talked normally. He's so good at reading lips that it makes you forget he's even deaf. Other than having to occasionally repeat something once or twice, it's no different from talking to anyone else... He's no different than anyone else."

"So what did you talk about?" he questioned.

"Just... you know, random things," I replied. "I don't even know what we talked about for most of the time. But it was nice."

"You like him so much. It's so cute."

"You're so annoying," I shot back, my face hot. "Why do I talk to you about anything?"

Gabriel made a  _hmm_  sound and pretended to be thinking. "I think it's because you love me. You know, just like you love Dean."

"Gabriel, I swear..." I said in a warning voice. I wasn't actually mad or annoyed, though, and he knew it.

My brother laughed. "But in all seriousness, do you like him?"

"I... I guess," I admitted.

"And did you give him your number?"

"Yes, Gabriel, I gave him my number."

"Finally."

A few minutes passed. We helped a few customers and rung some people up, and then I looked at Gabriel, frowning.

"Gabriel, I don't like this."

He gave me a confused look. "What don't you like?"

"I keep thinking about him."

"Aw, Cas," Gabriel said, laughing. "I think it's supposed to be that way."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think so."

I looked down, staying quiet for a couple seconds. "This is going to make time pass very slowly, Gabriel."

"It'll be okay, baby bro."

But it was not okay, not at all. My days at worked already went by slowly enough as it was, and that day seemed especially long, all because I could not get my mind off of Dean. It was frustrating.

Finally, the day ended, and it was time to go to the hospital. Gabriel and I left and got in his car, and he started driving. Honestly, in that moment, I was actually happy that my car had gotten towed. Normally I took this ride by myself, and it was torture. I always felt so anxious on that ride, afraid of what was going to happen in my dad's hospital room that night. But driving there with Gabriel made me feel a lot better and a lot less like I was going to vomit.

"You ready?" My brother asked as we parked in the hospital parking lot.

I took a deep breath. "I guess so."

"We'll only stay for an hour," Gabriel promised. "And then we can go get something to eat again. I'm already hungry."

I wondered how he could possibly be hungry while my stomach was in knots. Although this feeling wasn't new, I felt like it hadn't been so bad the night before, which was most likely because I was preoccupied with thinking about Dean. It was strange how he made anxiety seem to vanish, like I was one of those people who are always so in control with everything when that was not at all the case. In reality, no matter how calm I seemed (Gabriel had described me as "mellow" before) I was most likely freaking out about something on the inside, which only left my mind late at night when no one was around to hear it.

"I hate this," I said, breaking the silence that had fallen over us while Gabriel and I stood in the elevator.

"I know you do," Gabriel replied. "Trust me, baby bro, it's not my favorite thing, either."

"It's always so uncomfortable," I complained. "What are we supposed to say to him?"

"I know, I know. We just have to keep doing what we've been doing. This isn't gonna last much longer, Cas."

"Why?" I questioned. "Because he's going to die?"

"Well... No, he might get well enough to go home," Gabriel answered.

"That's almost worse. Where's 'home' for him? Does he have one? Is he going to have to stay with one of us? And if he gets well and goes on to live the rest of his life, will that be it?

"I don't even know what you mean by that."

"I mean, if he gets well enough to leave, like you said, will thing go back to the way they were before? When we didn’t even know where he was?"

Gabriel looked down as the elevator stopped and we got out, only to continue walking down another quiet hallway. "I haven't even thought of that."

"I don't want that to happen."

"Maybe if he was out of our lives for good it wouldn't be such a bad thing. We're adults now, we don’t need him for anything."

"I know, but he's kind of the only family we even have."

"Well, it doesn't matter, because he's probably going to die soon anyway!" Gabriel exclaimed, and I stayed quiet. The empty hallway carried his voice so the outburst was probably heard by more people than my brother would have liked. He immediately looked at me with a guilty expression on his face. "I'm sorry, Cas. I just don't know what to tell you. Whatever you're feeling about this, I'm probably feeling the same way. I wish I could make you feel better, here, but I don't think I can. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I responded quietly.

"Let's just try and get through this, okay?"

I nodded and followed him to the waiting room, where we were once again told that we could go right in and see our father.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" I whispered as we walked somewhat slowly down the last hallway.

"Of course not," Gabriel replied. "Thought you'd be mad at me."

"Of course not."

How could I be mad at the only person who was helping me through this?

Gabriel pushed the door open and we were greeted by the sight of our sick father, sitting up in his bed and fully awake this time, watching something on TV.

"Hi," my brother greeted. "Did you get our note last night?"

My dad nodded. "Yeah, I did. It's good to see you. Come on, come sit."

We went over to his bed and pulled up the two nearby chairs, awkwardly sitting down. I stared at my hands in my lap, waiting for someone to start a conversation.

"So how are you feeling?" Gabriel asked after a couple seconds of uncomfortable silence.

"I'm feeling okay today," Dad answered, turning the TV off with the remote in his hands.

"That's good," I spoke up.

"So what did you boys do today?" he asked, turning to look at us. "Did you come here from work again?"

"Yeah," Gabriel answered. "Work was fine."

_Work was long_ , I commented silently.

"Where do you work, again?" our dad questioned.

"Just a music store at the mall," Gabriel told him.

"Oh, that's right." My dad sighed and there was another awkward silence for a few seconds. "Do you have, like, friends there?"

" _Now_ you're interested in our lives," I muttered under my breath.

"What did you say, Cas?" my father asked.

"Nothing," I replied quickly.

"We don't really talk to anyone else at work much," Gabriel said, answering our father's earlier question and ignoring my slip-up. He then smirked at me. "But, uh, Cas made a friend."

"I will punch you," I warned.

"Cas, your face is red," my dad observed. "Would this friend happen to be a girl?"

"Uh... yes," I answered quickly before Gabriel could say anything. I did  _not_  want to tell my dad about the whole not being completely straight thing. Even if I was only going to be friends with Dean, it was now probably obvious to my dad that I liked the person Gabriel was talking about, and not in a friend way. But if he wasn't going to tell us about what he'd been doing for the past ten years that was apparently more important than his own sons, then I wasn't going to tell him about this. He really didn't need to know, anyway. "And, um, she's really... She's pretty."

Gabriel pressed his lips together and sunk down in his seat a bit while my father's eyebrows shot up.

"What's her name, Cas?" my dad asked.

"D-Dawn," I stuttered. It was the first thing that came to mind but, hey, that worked for me.

This huge lie didn't prove to be such a bad thing. Our father seemed very interested in my made-up crush, and he kept asking questions about her, and I kept making up answers. Gabriel helped me out a little every now and then and pretended to tease me about my new fake relationship. It actually made the time pass much quicker and things were a lot less awkward. We actually had something to talk about, even if it was all made up. My dad didn't have to know that this girl didn't exist (or, rather  _did_  exist, just... not as a girl).

"Wow, look at that, it's been an hour," Gabriel said some time later. "It's getting late. We have work tomorrow, so we should go, Dad."

"Alright, well, it was good to see you."

"We'll see you tomorrow," I promised before saying goodbye and following Gabriel out.

"Were you really going to tell him about Dean?" I questioned immediately as we began walking.

"I wasn't even thinking," Gabriel answered, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to say anything about him. But, hey, we made that visit go by pretty quickly, right?"

"Well, yes, but we lied pretty much the whole time."

"Hey, that was your fault. You started the lie."

"What was I supposed to do? Tell Dad I like a guy?"

"I don't think he'd have a problem with it."

"Maybe I'll surprise him next time, then," I responded. "Tell him Dawn is actually Dean, I like guys, and give him a heart attack."

"I think you're exaggerating."

"I don't think I am."

Before Gabriel could say anything else, my phone went off in my pocket, and I checked it.

"Who is it?" Gabriel asked.

"I don't know, it's a text."

I stopped in the middle of the hallway to read what was on the screen.

_It's Dean. I kinda need someone right now. R u doing anything?_

I felt my heart start to beat a little faster. "Hold on, Gabriel. I think this might be important."

He stopped walking and watched me with a curious expression as I typed my response.

_No, not really. What's wrong?_

"Who is it?" my brother asked again.

"Dean."

"Oh, he texted you!" Gabriel exclaimed happily.

"But..." I trailed off, unsure of what to say. The text was strange. He needed someone? For what? It was a bit concerning, really.

"What is it?" Gabriel questioned.

"I don't know. It sounds like there's something wrong."

My phone went off again and I immediately read the next text message.

_If this isn't weird would u be able to come over? If so I'll give u my address._

"Gabriel?" I said quietly. "Would you be willing to drive me somewhere?"

"Sure, where?"

"I'm not sure yet."

I quickly typed my response and sent the message to Dean.

_Of course._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was stumbling over his words a bit. He directed his gaze first to my eyes, then my lips, and then back again, and continued switching off every couple of seconds. The only word I could think of to describe him was 'perfect.'

"Well, this is it," Gabriel said as we pulled up outside the apartment building. This was the address Dean had given me. "Call me when you want to be picked up."

"No, Gabriel, I can't make you come all the way back here," I replied. "I'll just take the bus or something."

Gabriel was too tired to argue with that, apparently. "Okay, well, call me if you change your mind. And if this ends up being a trick and he's actually a murderer or something, call 911 and then call me. Got it?"

"I don't think there will be any need for that."

"Just be careful."

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," I reminded my brother.

"I know, I know," Gabriel responded. "I just don't want you to get murdered or anything. Go on, go see your boyfriend. Make responsible decisions. Use a condom. I won't drive away until you get In."

I glared at him. I suppose it wasn't a bad thing that he was protective of me, but I could have gone without the teasing.

After saying goodbye, I got out of the car, closing the door behind me and walking up to the front door of the building. I rang the doorbell for apartment sixteen, since that was the one Dean had told me he lived in, and then I realized that ringing the doorbell was probably not going to be the most effective way to tell him I'd arrived. I wondered if maybe he had some kind of special doorbell that lit up or something to tell him when it was ringing since he couldn't actually hear it, and then I wondered if things like that existed. Was that a good idea? Would people want that?

Then I realized I was kind of lost in thought and it was still a possibility that Dean had no clue that I was there, so I texted him. Almost immediately after I sent the message he buzzed me in, and I opened the door, waving to Gabriel to let him know that he could leave. Then it was time to actually enter the building.

As soon as I stepped inside I realized that I had no idea where to go. There was a staircase right in front of me- was I supposed to go up that? Luckily, before I could make that decision, Dean came down the stairs. He was wearing nothing but a green tee shirt and black sweatpants, which was different from what I was used to seeing him in- layered shirts, a leather jacket, and jeans, usually. He also wasn't wearing shoes, just a pair of white socks. And I couldn't help but notice the bags under his eyes.

"Hello, Dean," I greeted, smiling a bit.

"Cas, thanks for coming. Follow me."

Okay, he seemed fine. Whatever was going on here clearly wasn't an emergency like the text may have implied. That was a good thing, of course, but it naturally made me wonder why he wanted me to come over.

I followed him up the stairs and down the hallway until we got to his apartment. He opened the door and gestured for me to go inside first.

I suddenly found myself standing in Dean's living room. It wasn't much larger than mine, so it was safe to say that our apartments were about the same size, but I immediately liked his better. It felt more like a home, if that makes sense. He had pictures hanging on the wall of him and Sam, as well as him with a few other people who were most likely other family members. Along with the pictures, there were some old records hanging up as well- AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, The Beatles, Metallica. Compared to my living room, it was a bit messy, but not in a bad way. Just in a way that made it a little more comfortable.

Then, of course, there was the one thing that I did find a bit strange. The coffee table was pushed back against the wall and in the middle of the floor, there was a pile of what looked like random...  _parts_  to something.

"I had to get rid of my old couch," Dean explained. "It was breaking. So I got this new one, but I have to put it together. I was gonna have my brother help me, but he has a job interview in the morning so I'm gonna just leave him alone for the night. And frankly, Cas, I kind of suck at this type of thing. Could you help me?"

Honestly, I was just relieved that he was okay and the only thing he needed help with was assembling a couch. "Yeah, sure."

I nodded to make sure he knew that my answer was yes, and he knelt down on the floor, starting to inspect some of the pieces.

"Oh, Cas, you can put your coat anywhere," Dean told me.

I shrugged my trench coat off and draped it over the back of a chair in the corner of the room before sitting down with Dean. I picked up the instructions, which were lying there somewhere among the parts. It looked somewhat complicated, but I had made it my personal mission to help Dean with this couch.

"I haven't really bothered reading the instructions," Dean admitted. "Those things just never make any sense."

He was kind of right. The instructions featured many simple-looking diagrams, but I couldn't seem to find the right parts in the pile. It was all pretty unorganized, and I was assuming Dean had just gotten everything in one box and dumped it all on the floor.

"Yeah, I'm not even sure how these are couch pieces," Dean said, and looked at me. "Are you any good at this type of thing?"

I shrugged. "I've never had to do anything like this. My brother gave me all his old furniture when I moved."

I could have been imagining this, but I could have sworn he continued staring at my lips.

_Don't be stupid,_  I told myself.  _He was reading your lips. He's deaf so he was reading your lips. Just keep eye contact. No, why are YOU looking at HIS lips?! You don't need to do that. YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE TO DO THAT._

"Oh, yeah, that's cool," Dean said quickly, returning his gaze to my eyes. "I give a lot of my old furniture to Sam. But that couch just couldn't be saved. So, um... Do you know how we should start trying to do this?"

"Hmm..."

I picked up a could pieces that looked like they could go together. One was a leg, maybe? I tried connecting them, and I was successful, so I held up my creation for Dean to see.

He smiled, and, oh, what I'd give to always feel as happy as I did when I saw that smile. "There we go. That's a start."

And that  _was_ a start. We worked on assembling that couch for about an hour or so, putting random pieces together that seemed like they would fit and eventually, we somehow ended up with an actual couch.

"Wow," Dean said, looking at the masterpiece we'd built all by ourselves. "We did it."

"We did," I agreed.

"Do you have to leave?" Dean questioned, looking at me. More specifically, my lips.

Yes, I did need to leave. I had work early in the morning and Gabriel was going to be outside my house right on time, waiting to pick me up, and it was starting to get pretty late. Then again, it wasn't like I'd actually be getting any sleep if I went home. So if I wasn't going to be sleeping anyway, spending more time with Dean seemed like a much better option than trying to sleep, failing, and eventually becoming hysterical in the middle of the night and wanting to slam my head against the wall. Yes, this seemed like a much better option.

"I can stay," I decided.

Dean smiled again. (Did I make that happen? Did Dean smile because of me? What a thought.) "Should I order food? Maybe pizza or something? I know that's what we had for lunch, but I don't really have anything in the house to offer you."

"Oh, I can order it," I replied, taking my phone out to show him what I meant. I wasn't quite sure how he would have done it himself.

"Cas, I can order a pizza, you know. You can do that online now."

"Oh."

"It's a convenient world for deaf people these days, man."

So while he did that, I started putting his coffee table back so I could push his couch back against the wall, facing the TV.

"Hey, thanks," Dean said, coming back from the other room and helping me move the couch. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," I responded, but he wasn't looking at me.

"You know, I feel like we have definitely deserved this," Dean said, sitting down on the couch. He patted the spot next to him, looking up at me. "Have a seat, Cas. Do you want to watch anything?"

He grabbed the remote from the coffee table as I sat down next to him and turned on the TV (which was set so that the subtitles came on automatically), beginning to flip through some stations. Eventually, we settled on watching  _American Dad_.

"This is good," Dean decided, putting the remote down. "I like this show. The thing is, I didn't start watching it until after I lost my hearing, so I have no idea what any of the characters sound like. It's so hard with animated characters... You know, to imagine what they sound like. Like, what does Stan sound like? Is his voice deep? I would guess it is."

It took me a minute to figure out which character he was talking about, mostly because I was thinking about the fact that I now knew Dean wasn't born deaf. "Oh, uh, yes. His voice is pretty deep."

"Uh, I can't... Sorry, it's kind of dark in here, I can't really..."

He trailed off, but I understood; he was having trouble reading my lips. I took my cell phone out and opened up the notes app so I could type something.

_Stan does have a deep voice._

"What about Roger?" Dean questioned, accepting this as a new way we could talk to each other. "You know, the alien."

_His voice is nasally,_  I typed.  _And he kind of talks the way a stereotypical flamboyantly gay guy would talk._

"See, I never would have guessed that. And what about that kid, Snot or whatever?" Dean asked, pointing to another character on the screen. "I bet he sounds annoying."

_He sounds awful,_ I confirmed.  _Just awful. His voice actually makes me a little angry. I feel like I would strongly dislike the person who really has that voice._

Dean laughed, and I kind of took pride in that. I'd never taken pride in making someone laugh before (not that that happened often or anything) but Dean seemed to be the exception to every rule I had.

We continued watching and I continued describing everyone's voices the best that I could until Dean's phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out, quickly read what was on the screen, and then looked back at me. "The pizza's here. I was tracking it, because, you know, doorbells aren't all that useful for me."

"Wait, here, let me give you some money," I said, reaching in my pocket.

Dean didn't seem to like that idea. "Are you offering to pay? Because that's not gonna happen. You just came over here and helped me build a couch after only knowing me for, like, two days. Let me buy you dinner."

He didn't give me a chance to argue before he went to buzz the pizza man in about a millisecond after the doorbell was rung. I tried to thank him, but he wasn't looking at me.

Dean paid the man, got the food, and got drinks from the kitchen before sitting back down so we could eat our second pizza of the day.

_Thank you,_ I typed on my phone before showing the screen to him.

"Thank  _you_ ," he replied. "And not just for the couch."

"What..?"

"Thank you for not complaining about the subtitles on the TV," Dean said.

My eyes widened a little. "People do that?"

"People don't like watching TV with me usually because... Well, people don't like subtitles. I haven't been to see a movie in forever, either. I don't want to go alone and no one wants to have to go to one of the special showings of a movie where they have the subtitles on."

"I’d go with you," I blurted out.

A part of me was wishing he hadn't noticed I'd said anything or wasn’t able to read my lips. Of course I would want to go see a movie with Dean, that wasn't the problem at all- the problem was that I didn't want to seem desperate to do things with him, and I didn't want to seem like I was asking him out or anything. Because that would have been weird, right? He just wanted to be friends, and that was more than enough for me if it was what would make him happy. (Or, I suppose maybe this could have been his clever way of asking me out. Of course, another possibility was that I was overthinking things again.)

But anyway, Dean apparently had been looking and apparently had been able to read my lips. "Really?"

Unsure of what else to do, I nodded. That was an honest answer.

"That would be nice," Dean said quietly. "Okay, Cas, I have to confess something."

"Sure," I replied, suddenly noticing the butterflies in my stomach. I didn't like hearing anything along the lines of 'I have to confess something.' That usually led to something I was not at all mentally prepared to deal with.

"I, um... You have to understand that not many people I've met since I lost my hearing have been very eager to talk to me. I mean, like I said before, most people just don't want to try." He was stumbling over his words a bit. He directed his gaze first to my eyes, then my lips, and then back again, and continued switching off every couple of seconds. The only word I could think of to describe him was 'perfect.' I couldn't imagine not wanting to talk to him. "I mean, I... I teach a sign language class to people who are deaf or hard of hearing, so the people I teach will talk to me in sign language, but no one outside of work talks to me very much. It's almost embarrassing to say, but I'm telling you because I need you to understand why I... Why it seems like I'm forcing a friendship, here. If you're not, like, okay with that, that's completely fine and... I just... This isn't even like me, I'm just..."

"Dean," I interrupted, and he stopped talking.

It was quiet for a few seconds. There was something he wasn't telling me, that much was clear. I took my phone back out and typed something.

_In your text you said you needed someone._

The text honestly did still confuse me a little. It was like he was upset when he sent it, like he was lonely. You could have even assumed worse.

Dean seemed to take a shaky breath. "Yeah, things have... Like I said, this really isn't like me, but things have been hard lately."

Another few seconds of silence. Dean wasn't looking at me anymore, he was looking down. Two half-eaten slices of pizza on paper plates were lying there on the coffee table, suddenly completely forgotten.  _American Dad_ was still on. I gently touched Dean's arm to get his attention, and he turned to look at me.

"Things have been hard for me, too," I told him. "I think... I needed someone as well."

Dean smiled, but it was different this time. He was back to that little almost-smile. "That works out, then, doesn't it?"

And that night was pretty simple. Neither of us knew why things were hard right now for the other, we just knew that, as it turned out, we needed each other. And not just for assembling furniture. It was one of the most simple nights I'd had in a while, and my  _last_ simple night for a while.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I shouldn't have invited him. You know I'm not good with social situations, Gabriel. You know I say things that I shouldn't sometimes."
> 
> "I thought you wanted him to come, and it's none of my business, Cas. Why would I have a problem with it? ...Why do you have a problem with it?"
> 
> "I don't," I replied quietly. "It's just..."
> 
> I trailed off, and Gabriel just sighed. "Try to calm down a little. M'worried about you lately."

I woke up the next morning to the sound of my phone ringing. I yawned, suddenly noticing the pain in my neck and back. I had to have been asleep for most of the night, but I still felt tired.

And then confusion washed over me. Where even was I? I looked around and realized I'd fallen asleep sitting there on Dean's couch, and apparently, so had Dean. In fact, he'd fallen asleep right next to me, and his head was on my shoulder. Despite several aching muscles, I was actually comfortable and didn't want to move, but then I remembered that I had a job.

Now panicked by this realization, I grabbed my still-ringing phone that was on the couch beside me and answered it, careful not to move too much so I wouldn't wake Dean. "Hello?"

"Cas, where the Hell are you?" Gabriel asked on the other line. "I'm outside your house."

"What time is it?" I questioned, startled.

"It's seven, so we have time, but-"

"I never went home," I interrupted. "I'm so sorry. I fell asleep at Dean's."

"Should I pick you up there?"

"Yeah, I... Yes, please do."

"Are you gonna be ready?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'm on my way."

I hung up and took a deep breath. I couldn't really remember too much about what happened the night before after Dean confessed that he needed me for more than helping him put a couch together, so it couldn't have been a very eventful night. As much as I liked the feeling of Dean leaning on me, I had to try and make myself somewhat socially presentable for work, so I had to get up.

"Dean," I said quietly, shifting a bit but still holding him up. I wasn't going to be able to wake him with noise, obviously, so I gently shook his arm a little. "Dean, wake up."

His eyes slowly opened, and he sat up straight, looking up at me. He looked confused for a split second before he seemed to have remembered why I was there. "Sorry, Cas. I fell asleep on you."

"That's okay," I replied.

He stretched a bit and rubbed the back of his neck, and I caught myself staring again. I really had to stop doing that.

I opened the notes app on my close-to-dead phone and quickly typed something, figuring it would be easy to explain my situation to Dean that way rather than anything else.

_My brother is picking me up soon. I have to go to work._

"Oh, yeah, okay," Dean said. "The bathroom's right down the hall, you can go... You know, use it."

I thanked him and got up, quickly walking to the bathroom. After closing and locking the door behind me, I splashed water on my face and tried to remember when I'd even fallen asleep. I also tried to remember what we were even  _doing_  last night, and I looked at my phone that was placed on the side of the sink. My notes app was full of me explaining what different characters' voices sounded like, and, yes, that seemed vaguely familiar. I must have been exhausted to have fallen asleep so easily.

That was not important right now, though. I looked at myself in the mirror, and I was slightly horrified. I had to go to work, I had to  _see_  people.  _People_  had to see  _me_ , and, really, I looked awful. I tried fixing my hair the best that I could, and then grabbed a bottle of cologne that was on the sink. Dean wouldn't mind, would he? I had no choice, so I used some.

There. Somewhat presentable.

"Cas, I think you're brother is here!" Dean called from the other room.

I sighed heavily and left the bathroom. Dean was looking out the window in the living room, and I joined him.

"Is that him?" Dean asked, pointing outside. In front of the building my brother was leaning against his parked car, looking down at his phone, probably about to text or call me to tell me that he was there.

I nodded. "That's him." I turned to Dean to make sure he was looking at me. "Thank you for having me, Dean."

"Thanks for coming, Cas," he responded with a small smile.

I wanted to stay more than anything.

//

"So... what was... What did you do?" Gabriel asked as we walked down the hallway of the mall towards the music store. He hadn't asked me about my visit with Dean until now, and I could tell that he was dying to know more than he actually needed to know.

"Not much," I replied.

"Did you, like... Do the do?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know, like... Did you... You  _know_..."

"Oh... Oh, no! No, Gabriel, we didn't... do the...  _do_."

"So what did you do, then?"

"I helped him put a couch together," I said, unsure of why Gabriel even wanted to know any of this. "That was what he needed help with."

"That's it?"

"Yes. Why would you think we did... you know, something... else?"

"Well, you fell asleep at his house, baby bro. When that happens, I usually just assume-"

"Don't assume," I interrupted. "We were just watching TV."

"Okay, okay. So defensive." He paused. "You could make this into a great story to tell Dad tonight."

"I forgot about that," I said quietly. "I don't want to go."

"At least it's Friday," Gabriel replied with a shrug. "So just one more day. He doesn't expect us to visit on the weekends."

"I still don't want to go."

"Rough it out, buddy."

I was dreading it, but not only for the normal reasons. I didn't want to continue to lie to my dying father. I should probably just have told him everything, but that seemed scarier than lying.

This was pretty much all that was on my mind all day. At one point, to distract myself, I started looking up movie theaters that had special showings with subtitles. I was able to find a few and made a mental note to ask Dean if he wanted to go to one the next time I saw him.

"What are you doing?" Gabriel asked, looking over my shoulder at my phone where I was reading about some assisted hearing equipment that some movie theaters had. (I was pretty sure none of the equipment they offered would help Dean, because he wasn't just hard of hearing, he was completely deaf, wasn't he? He would have told me by now if he was able to hear at all.)

"That's rude," I told my brother.

"Aw, you're gonna take him to see a movie? That's so cute."

"It's not cute."

"It's  _so_  cute."

"He just mentioned wanting to go," I said, trying to explain myself and turning slightly red in the process. "So I thought-"

"So you want to take him! That's adorable, Cas. Really, it is."

The day went by slowly, but I didn't mind it this time. The best part of the day was that about ten minutes before my shift was over, Dean was back.

"I wasn't sure if I'd catch you," Dean said when I greeted him at the front of the store.

"You just made it," I said. "Looking for another CD?"

"Actually," Dean said slowly, "I was wondering if you sold tapes. You know, something I could play in my car. Haven't gotten any new ones in a while."

"We don't have a very large selection, but... Yeah, there's a box in the back. Come on, I'll show you."

I led him to the back of the store and showed him a bin on one of the shelves. It was full to the top, probably because no one really came to the store looking for tapes.

Dean went through them for a few seconds before pulling out a Def Leppard tape. "Hey, look at that, Cas. It's the same album in tape form. I love the CD, by the way, so thanks for that suggestion. I think I have to get this."

I was just about to offer to ring him up when Gabriel joined us. "Need any help, here?"

Immediately I knew he just wanted an excuse to meet Dean. "No, I think we're fine. Thanks, Gabriel."

But he wasn't going to give up. "Hey, is this Dean?"

Dean must have been able to read his lips well enough to be able to recognize his name. "Hi?"

"Uh, yeah, um... Dean," I said, turning to him, "this is my brother. Gabriel."

"Gabriel?"

I nodded.

"Well, nice to meet you, Gabriel," Dean said to my brother.

"I've heard a lot about you," Gabriel replied.

"Then you probably know about my hearing situation. Talk slow and I'll be able to read your lips, don't mess with me by mouthing things without actually talking, and we'll get along fine."

Gabriel nodded. "Noted."

"Come on, I'll ring you up," I said to Dean, and led him back to the front of the store, Gabriel closely following behind us.

I scanned the tape, and handed Dean his receipt. He gave me the money in exact change, like he always did, and I handed him the tape in the smallest plastic bag we had.

"Thanks, Cas," Dean said. "Hey, um... Are you doing anything tonight?"

"I have to visit my dad in the hospital."

"The hospital, huh?"

I nodded. "But... We could do something after. Or... I mean... You could come, if you want."

That is probably the perfect way to prove that I really, really liked Dean. There was no reason for me to invite him to come and there was every reason for me not to. First of all, my dad didn't know Dean existed. If I was going to bring anyone on one of our visits, he probably would have expected it to be Dawn, who didn't actually exist. Then there was the fact that visits were awkward enough as it was when it was just me and Gabriel visiting; adding a guy my dad didn't know who also happened to be deaf didn't seem like a good idea. In reality Dean being deaf wasn't a big deal at all, but I had the feeling that my dad would be one of those people who thought there was no way to communicate with a deaf person unless you were fluent in sign language or had a translator who was fluent in sign language. Not to mention that I didn't even want Dean to meet my father. I had negative feelings towards my dad, and my feelings towards Dean... Well, being with Dean felt immense, like staring at the sky for the first time. I didn't want someone who I'd come to care about so much so quickly to be in the same room as someone who I was pretty sure I hated.

I was counting on Gabriel to come to the rescue. He had to have thought it was a bad idea, right? Gabriel would never let something happen if he thought it was a bad idea. He would step in and say something and put a stop to it. Or at the very least maybe he would sense that I regretted offering, and then he'd definitely say something.

But he didn't say anything. He just stood there, counting money in the register. There was no way he simply hadn't heard because there was no way he wasn't listening to everything Dean and I were saying to each other. So why was he not saying anything?

"Meeting the parents already, huh?" Dean joked.

"You don't have to," I said quickly, soon realizing that I'd probably said it way too fast for him to be able to read my lips. I repeated the sentence more slowly and calmly. "You don't have to."

"If it's okay with you, I'll go," Dean responded with a shrug. "It would be cool to meet your dad, and we can do something after if you want."

"Yeah, sounds good," I agreed, nodding slowly. How was I supposed to say no? I wanted to spend more time with him, he wanted to meet my dad... I couldn't just take back my offer.

Gabriel clearly wasn't going to help me. He checked the time on his phone and looked at me. "Shift's over, baby bro."

So we left. Gabriel walked ahead of us and when we got out to the employees' parking lot, I looked at Dean. "Where are you parked?"

"Oh, somewhere in the front," Dean answered. He started playing with the zipper on his coat. "Um, this is gonna be a strange request, but... Do you think you'd be cool with riding in my car? It's... I'm more comfortable driving when there's someone else there. You totally don't have to or anything... I get that it makes some people nervous to be in a car with a deaf person driving, but I'm careful. I've never gotten in any accidents or anything."

I could honestly say that the thought of Dean driving me somewhere didn’t make me nervous at all. "Okay, no problem."

"Okay... See you there," Gabriel said slowly. I could tell he wasn't completely comfortable with the idea, but I also knew he wasn't going to say anything about it.

So I followed Dean to the front of the mall and he led me to his car (which he later told me was a 1967 Chevrolet Impala, and he seemed proud of it). He got in the driver's seat and I sat in the passenger's seat, and immediately, Dean turned to look at me.

"Okay, before I start to drive, there are some things I always say to new passengers," he began. "Well, you know, these WOULD be the things I said to new passengers... if I had a lot of new passengers. But anyway. I'm not going to be able to really communicate with you the entire time, okay? Can't take my hands off the wheel, can't turn to look at you... as much as I'll miss seeing that pretty face of yours."

_Wait was that a joke or was I about to over analyze things again oh my God why is life so confusing._

"If there's something you have to tell me that can't wait until we stop," Dean continued, "that is the only time you are allowed to get my attention. Just tap my shoulder or something and I'll pull over. I'm a good driver and like I said before, I'm really careful. But if... If you ever need to grab the wheel or something, go ahead. Okay, that's about it. I'm all set. You good?"

I nodded. It's safe to say that if this had been anyone else, I probably would have felt nervous. Not even because of them being deaf. Just being in a car with a new person. But, again, Dean was always the exception.

Really, my mind was still on that joke (?) from before. As we drove to the hospital, it was kind of all I could think about it, as embarrassing as that is to admit. I mean, joking or not, he called me pretty. I'm going to stop talking about that right now before I sound any more like a teenage girl with a crush. 

We got there (without me having to make Dean pull over or take the wheel, luckily) and met Gabriel at the hospital's main entrance. It was starting to really sink in that I'd gotten myself into an extremely anxiety-inducing situation and being with both my brother and Dean was the only thing that was helping (which only half made sense because being with Dean was the entire problem).

"How are you okay with this?" I whispered to Gabriel. Dean wasn't looking at us. He was looking straight ahead as we walked, so he didn't know I was saying anything. Something about that felt a little wrong, somehow, but I had to talk to Gabriel.

"What are you talking about?" Gabriel whispered back.

"I shouldn't have invited him. You know I'm not good with social situations, Gabriel. You know I say things that I shouldn't sometimes."

"I thought you wanted him to come, and it's none of my business, Cas. Why would I have a problem with it? ...Why do  _you_ have a problem with it?"

"I don't," I replied quietly. "It's just..."

I trailed off, and Gabriel just sighed. "Try to calm down a little. M'worried about you lately."

Well, that didn't make me feel any better. One of my goals was to make sure Gabriel didn't worry about me, and apparently I was failing.

The walk to my father's room was a little awkward seeing as none of us really talked the whole time. I was starting to wonder why Dean had even wanted to come. He couldn't have been enjoying himself and if  _I_ was feeling awkward, I couldn't even imagine how he felt.

"Good to see you boys again," one of the familiar-looking nurses said to us in the waiting room. Then she noticed Dean. "Who's this?"

"Friend of ours," Gabriel answered.

"Well, you can go right in."

I was really not looking forward to this.

When we opened the door to our father's room, I was hoping he'd be asleep, but it was just my luck that he was wide awake and watching TV in his bed.

"Hi, Dad," I said nervously.

He looked at us and immediately noticed that we weren't alone. "Oh, you brought a friend?"

I nodded.

"Well, come on in, have a seat. Introduce me."

There were only two chairs. Gabriel took one and I offered Dean the other, but he chose to stand, and I chose to stand with him so he wouldn't be alone.

"Okay, Dad, this is my friend, Dean," I said, and then turned to Dean. "This is my father."

"Nice to meet you, um... Mr..."

I realized Dean didn't even know my last name. I liked him so much and we hadn't even known each other long enough for him to  _know my last name_. 

Okay, this was a disaster already. My dad was going to say our last name and Dean probably wouldn't catch it because my dad didn't know he was deaf yet and so he wouldn't know to speak clearly and move his mouth a little more than usual and names were probably harder for Dean to-

"Novak," my dad said.

"Ah, okay," Dean replied.

Alright. That wasn't disastrous.

I looked at Dean. "I should... Probably tell him, right?"

Dean sighed heavily, but nodded.

"Dad, Dean is deaf, so you have to make sure it's not too hard for him to read your lips," I told my father.

"He's deaf?"

"Yes."

"Doesn't sound deaf."

"He hasn't always been deaf."

"Doesn't look deaf."

Gabriel gave him a confused look. "What do you expect a deaf person to look like?"

"I don't know, just..." My dad turned to me. "How'd this happen? How'd you become friends with a deaf guy? And why'd you bring him here? I have Cancer, Cas, there are bigger things on my mind than hoping my son's friend is able to tell what I'm saying, as concerning as that is."

"Cancer?" Dean repeated. "I'm so sorry." That part was genuine. "But the way you're talking right now is fine, actually. Nice of you to worry about me, but I'm pretty good at figuring out what's going on. And we met at his work. You can ask me questions, too, if you want." And that part was a little sarcastic.

I pressed my lips together, trying my best to hold in the huge smile caused by Dean subtly standing up to my dad in a way I dreamed of being able to.

"Okay, okay, you've made your point," my dad said, looking at Dean. He then looked back at me. "Thought maybe I'd get to meet your girlfriend."

"You have a girlfriend?" Dean asked, glancing at me. I couldn't figure out what his thoughts on that possibility were- he didn't let much emotion into the question.

"No!" I exclaimed. "I don't have a girlfriend."

A whole new disaster that I hadn't even thought of. Now Dean was going to think I was interested in some girl. He was going to think I was straight. And how was I supposed to explain the truth?  _Oh, no, I actually just didn't want my dad to know I like guys so I based my imaginary crush on you. I like you, by the way._ Gabriel would think that was cute, but that would NOT be cute. That would be weird and possibly ruin a friendship. Nothing good would come out of that.

"From what I've heard, I bet she likes you," my dad was saying. "And you talk about her so much, you must be crazy about her."

I couldn't do anything but shake my head. I didn't know what to say.

Thankfully, Gabriel decided to help me out this time by changing the subject. "So, Dad, how are you feeling?"

And the visit went on like that, with small talk and my dad awkwardly trying to make conversation with Dean. Dean seemed a little quieter than usual, and I wondered what he thought of me having a girlfriend (which he undoubtedly thought was the case, now). Probably nothing. For all I knew, he had a girlfriend of his own. Over analyzing again.

"Well, thanks for stopping by," my dad said when it started getting late. "See you next week. And, you know, Cas, I'd love to meet your little girlfriend before... You know, while I can."

I stared at him blankly. "What? Why?"

Did that actually mean something to him?

"Just want to see the girl who makes you so happy."

It seemed like I had a few options at that point. I could keep the lie going and find some girl who would pretend to be Dawn. I could keep the lie going and make up reasons for why Dawn couldn't come visit. Or I could end the lie because if my dad died I would feel extremely guilty about lying to him like that.

I chose that last option.

"I can't bring her here, Dad," I said quietly, looking down and trying to figure out the best way to do this.

"Why not?"

"Because... I completely lied. She isn't real."

I was vaguely aware of Dean's eyes glued to my lips.

My dad was just confused, which I suppose was an appropriate response. "Why would you lie about something like that?"

"Because..." Why did I lie, again? Oh, right. "I didn't want to tell you that I'm... that I haven't been very interested in girls lately."

I wanted to look at Dean to see his reaction to that, but that would have made things a little more than obvious.

"So you're gay?"

Was I gay? Did I like girls at all? I wasn't sure, but I knew what the easiest thing to say was. "Yes."

"And instead of just saying that... You made up a story about a girl who doesn't exist?" my dad questioned.

I nodded. "Basically. I didn't realize it would be such a big thing. I didn't know you'd be so interested." 

"I thought there was a girl who made you happy, Cas. That did mean something to me."

Suddenly, I didn't feel awkward or nervous anymore. I didn't feel guilty for lying and I didn't feel bad about the truth. I just felt angry, which was a bit confusing. "That meant something to you?"

"Of course."

"You say that like it's so obvious that my happiness means anything to you. You ignored me- both of us- for most of our lives and then you left. Did my happiness mean anything back then? Or was your logic always that someday some girl would make me happy so it was fine for you to hurt me?"

Well, there it was. I ended up being the one to bring it up after all.

"Cas," Gabriel said quietly.

"Don't talk to me," I snapped. I was now aware of my eyes stinging and soon I could feel hot tears rolling down my cheeks. The wave of emotions was unpleasant to say the least, and I needed to leave. I needed to get away from that hospital room.

I stood up and rushed out, walking right through the waiting room and into the quiet hallway where I could lean against the wall and cry silently for reasons I was unsure of.

"Cas?"

"Leave me alone, Gabriel."

"Cas."

No, wait, that wasn't Gabriel. I turned to see Dean standing there, head slightly tilted to the side, looking worried.

"Your brother stayed to talk to your dad," he told me. "Come on, we're leaving. You need to get out of here."

"Okay," I choked out, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. The last thing I wanted was for him to see my like that, but it was too late.

And then Dean took my hand. He actually took my hand in his, and held it as we started to walk. Our fingers weren't intertwined or anything and it wasn't really romantic; it was just simple. And I appreciated it probably a lot more than Dean realized. And in that moment, I wondered what was happening to me lately, and why I was breaking.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There's something wrong with me," I said quietly, kneeling down and resting my arms on the windowsill and my chin on my arms. "I've been sad... for much too long."

My hands were trembling. I had them flat on the table in front of me, taking deep breaths, trying to get them to stop shaking. Every so often Dean would reach across the table to "accidentally" brush his fingers against mine in what I assumed was an attempt to help me calm down rather than an accident. And it did help.

We were at a little diner that Dean had taken me to, not far from the hospital. It was a nice place- small but comfortable, and it smelled nice- but I wasn't sure how much I was going to be able to actually eat.

I was starting to tear up again for some reason. As I looked at Dean through watery eyes, I realized that this was, despite all my staring, the first time I actually really let myself look at him. He was looking down at his menu, occasionally glancing around the diner. His eyes were amazing- so green, so bright. His hair, kind of a dark sandy color, was a little bit messy but perfect. And the mess of light freckles across the bridge of his nose and his cheekbones... That may have been my favorite thing about his appearance. He was not simply, as Gabriel had described him, cute. He was beautiful, really. And that was only his appearance. How could I even begin to describe everything else about him?

"Cas, I'm really sorry that happened, man," Dean said, seeming genuinely concerned. "You know, all the stuff with your dad."

So, so beautiful.

"Thanks," I replied quietly, looking down.

"You need to get your mind off things," Dean decided. "Want me to teach you some sign language?"

I wiped my eyes and looked up at him, smiling a bit. "Okay."

"Give me a word and I'll show you what it is in sign language."

"Alright... Food."

He brought his hand to his mouth, all of his fingers together, and tapped his lips twice. "That means food, but it also means eat. Give me, like, a phrase."

"How would you say... Nice to meet you?" He did two different signs pretty quickly, and I didn't really catch it. "Woah, wait, do that again."

So he repeated the signs and then had me try it myself.

"Perfect," he said with a small smile. "You're... I mean, that was perfect."

I looked down, feeling my face get hot.  _You're?_

He showed me how to sign a few more basic phrases and words, and the waitress came to take our order while he was in the middle of signing a longer phrase.

"What can I get you?" she asked me.

"Just a burger," I replied, glancing up at her and then back down at my menu.

"And, um..." The waitress looked at Dean, who was still staring down at his menu, and then quickly turned back to me. "What does... What does he want?"

I blinked a couple times in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Can he... Hear?"

My eyebrows shot up and I realized she must have seen him showing me sign language. And she must have assumed he couldn’t order for himself. "Well, no, but-"

"Hamburger for me as well," Dean spoke up, smiling at the waitress. "And we'll have a large fry to split."

She nodded slightly, her lips pressed together, and walked away. I looked at Dean, eyes wide, unsure if he knew what just happened.

"You look surprised," Dean commented. "Happens all the time, man. Like I said, when people figure out I'm deaf, I become invisible. Or, well, not exactly. They're just too scared to talk to me directly."

"That's awful," I replied.

God, those people were really missing out.

Dean showed me some more sign language, and when our food came, I realized I actually was pretty hungry. We ate mostly in silence, which gave me time to wonder what was wrong with me. I couldn't get rid of the feeling that I was about to start uncontrollably sobbing, and it was getting tiring. Which was another problem, because no matter how tiring things got, I wasn't able to sleep. Was that what was causing all of this?

I ate half of a burger before I started to feel full and slouched down in my seat.

"Have you eaten today?" Dean questioned, raising an eyebrow at me.

"A little," I answered with a shrug, glancing at the food in front of me.

Dean glanced down as well, tapping his fingers on the table. "Maybe I shouldn't have brought you here."

"No, no," I said quickly. "This was really nice of you. I'm glad you brought me." I paused. "What's the sign for thank you?"

Dean smiled a little and touched his index and middle fingers to his lips before extending his arm out a bit. I watched closely and mimicked exactly what he'd done, and in return I got a full smile from him. I wondered if there would ever be a time when seeing Dean smile wouldn't make things a little better, and I was doubtful.

“Come on, I’ll take you home,” he said, putting money on the table. I put a few dollars down as well, and he frowned. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Just as a tip,” I replied.

“Why is it so hard for you to let me buy you things?" Dean questioned, looking at me with his head slightly tilted to the side. He wasn't saying it in an angry or annoyed way, Actually, I was pretty sure that was an actual question that he genuinely wanted to know the answer to.

"I don't know," I replied, shrugging awkwardly. "I just feel bad. I don’t want you to have to spend money on me." I was all too aware of him staring at my lips once again and had to remind myself that he had a reason for that, and I did  _not_  have a reason to stare at his.

Dean took the few dollars that I'd put on the table and then took my hand. He placed the money in my open palm and gently moved my fingers so that they curled around it.

"Please let me buy you dinner."

My mind was now mostly just on the fact that his fingers were still touching mine and he was standing closer to me than he ever had before. I swallowed hard. "Okay."

He dropped me off at my apartment, and I thanked him, knowing I really had to get my car back as soon as I was sure I could afford it. I felt bad for not inviting Dean inside, but I needed to just go to bed and possibly cry a lot and he didn't need to be there for that.

Well, I did go to bed (after forcing myself to take a cold shower) but there was not nearly as much crying as I thought there would be. There was actually barely any crying at all. I teared up a bit when Gabriel tried to call me and I couldn't bring myself to answer, but that was about it. Not crying was actually a lot worse than crying, though, because I still had that lump in my throat and the feeling of being on the verge of sobbing hysterically that came with it, and that made it even harder to sleep than usual.

It was midnight when I couldn't handle lying motionless in bed anymore. I dragged myself to my bedroom window, ignoring how cold I suddenly was, and looked out the window to see the moon, bright as ever.

"There's something wrong with me," I said quietly, kneeling down and resting my arms on the windowsill and my chin on my arms. "I've been sad... for much too long."

It was colder near my window. The tip of my nose was touching the glass and my breath was fogging up the window a little bit. My eyelids suddenly started to feel a little heavy, but that was a trick and I knew it.

My gaze drifted from the moon to the stars. There weren't many of them out; I counted fifteen.

"I don't know what it is," I continued, my voice cracking. "I want... I need things to get better. I'm so tired of being sad, so drained from constantly trying to figure out why. I need to apologize to Dad for breaking. I need to hear him apologize for... the things he did. The things he didn't do. I need that situation to be over. I need to feel better, and that seems to be the only way." I paused, surprised that I was keeping it together, and shakily taking a deep breath, letting my eyes close for a few seconds before opening them and looking back at the moon. "I just have to go back tomorrow. Apologize, talk to him. And everything will be over. Everything will be okay."

And with that, I got back up and crawled into bed once again. I still couldn't sleep, but I was a little more at ease. I was able to think about other things and not focus on how miserable I was. Mostly I just thought about Dean.

//

I woke up the next morning (after about two hours of sleep) to the sound of my phone going off for the second morning in a row. And, once again, it was Gabriel.

"Hello?" I asked groggily, unable to think of any reason he'd be calling me at eight in the morning on a Saturday. My first thought was that we had to go into work for something, and that was a horrifying possibility.

"I'm outside your building, baby bro. Need you to buzz me in."

"Why are you..."

"Cas, buzz me in," Gabriel repeated and I couldn't ignore the break in his voice.

"Okay," I said, somewhat nervously. "Hold on."

So I let him in and the butterflies in my stomach grew when I saw his face, because it was obvious that he'd been crying.

"Gabriel?" I said quietly.

"Cas." He stepped forward and hugged me. This did nothing to calm me down. In fact, it did the opposite. I didn't hug back and I vaguely felt like I was going to vomit, silently begging him to tell me what was going on. "Dad died, Cas."

I wasn't able to process that right away. "Wh-what?"

"He's... gone. I'm so sorry, Cas. I got the call from the hospital an hour ago. I had to get myself together before I came over here to tell you." The volume of his voice was dropping lower and lower as he spoke until it was nothing more than a whisper. "I'm sorry."

Well, the butterflies were gone. I silently wrapped my arms around my brother and buried my face in his shirt, unsure if I was even crying or not. He was shorter than me, but I made myself as small as possible in his arms. I still hadn't fully processed everything.

I think it was when Gabriel pulled away and we looked at each other's tear-stained faces (turns out I had been crying after all- the wet spot on my brother's shirt was further proof) that it started to really sink in for me.

"I never apologized," I said quietly, looking down and letting some tears drip onto the floor. "He thinks... He thought... he died thinking I hate him, Gabriel."

"No," my brother replied, shaking his head, hands on my shoulders. "I talked to him. He knows... knew... you loved him. And he said he loved you. He said he loved both of us and regretted that he never really got to know us, and that he missed so much time throughout our lives. I... tried to call you..."

"I know," I responded quietly, finally making eye contact with him again. "I was... Wanted to go back today... Fix everything..."

I realized how much I was crying and covered my face with my hands. This was too sudden. He was expected to live at least a bit longer, maybe even recover. And now he was gone. He wasn't the best father, but he was  _my_  father, the only one I would ever have. He was my only living parent. And I'd never have closure. Closure had been he only thing that I thought could maybe make me feel better and it was now no longer a possibility. 

The thought of that being one of the reasons I was so upset made me feel guilty, which made me start crying even more, and I fell right back into my brother's arms. It was safe to say that I was finally hysterical, probably only even able to physically stand because Gabriel was holding me up, and this only made me feel worse because Gabriel had lost his dad, too, and I wasn't even considering how he felt. But instead of trying to get myself together the way he did so he could come over and break the news calmly, I just started crying more.

"It's okay," Gabriel told me, wrapping his arms around me once again.

"It's not okay," I said in between sobs.

I don't know exactly how long we stayed like that, but when we finally separated once again, Gabriel didn't stay for long. He said he needed time alone, and I understood that, so I didn't protest.

Unfortunately for me, this was one of the very few times I felt like I would have preferred not to be alone. When I was alone, I had more time to think, and during times like these, that never really ended well.

I sat cross-legged on my couch, staring down at my hands in my lap, trying my best to ignore the tears that were still rolling down my cheeks. I didn't want to be in my apartment right now. I needed to get out, I needed to clear my head.

I decided that the best way to do this would be to take a walk, so I didn't bother changing out of my pajamas before putting shoes on and leaving. Not grabbing my coat was probably a mistake, but I didn't feel like going back. I just felt like walking.

It was nice for a while, aimlessly walking around, letting the cool breeze dry my tears. I felt like I was literally running away from the feeling of loneliness, but it didn't take long for it to catch up with me, and then I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to go home. I didn't want to bother Gabriel. I took my phone out and, knowing there was only one other person on the planet I could go to, I texted Dean with shaky fingers.

_Are you busy?_

I wasn't very far from his apartment building. I didn't love the thought of inviting myself over, but if he was okay with it, I was going to take the opportunity.

It didn't take long for him to respond.  _Nope, I'm at home._

I replied so fast that it probably scared him. _I really can't be alone right now. Can I please come over?_

The fact that I didn't even regret sending that just further proves how much I really needed someone.

When he answered, my heart almost skipped a beat.  _Of course._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was so easy to be happy around Dean.

I couldn't imagine what Dean must have thought when he opened his door to see me standing there in a baggy blue tee shirt and black sweatpants. I hadn't looked at myself in a while but I could imagine that it was obvious how much I'd been crying, and my hair was probably a mess.

"Jesus, dude, are you okay?" Dean asked quietly. He was in what I assumed were his pajamas, too- an old AC/DC tee shirt and grey sweatpants that were even more beat up than mine. "You've been crying, haven't you? Come on, come in."

I nodded a little and followed him inside, kind of just standing there with my hands behind my back, staring down at the floor as he closed the door behind me.

Dean touched my arm. "Oh my God, you're freezing, Cas. How long were you outside? Why don't you have a jacket?" I shrugged, but he wasn't looking at me, so I don't think he actually cared about my answer. Instead, he grabbed a sweatshirt that was lying on the couch and helped me put it on. "There. Better?"

I nodded. The sweatshirt was a little too big for me, which made it so much better, and it smelled like Dean, which was strangely comforting. I felt warmer, safer, and less alone, and that was an improvement already. Going over there had not been a mistake.

"Now what happened?" Dean questioned, letting his gaze drift down from my eyes to my lips, showing me that he wanted an answer this time.

I pressed my lips together. This was going to be the first time I'd said this out loud. "My dad is dead."

My eyes started watering after I said those words, and Dean just kind of stared at me sadly.

"I'm so sorry," he said.

"The last thing I said to him was accusing him of not caring about me," I choked out. "And the worst part is, I still don't think he did. But he was my dad. And now he's gone."

I probably wasn't making it very easy for him to read my lips, so I wasn't sure if he'd caught everything I said, but it didn't matter. He just pulled me into a hug that I ended up needing so much more than I knew. I held onto him like my life depended on it, literally using his shoulder to cry on.

"It's okay," Dean told me quietly, wrapping his arms around me tighter rather than getting annoyed that I wasn't letting go of him. "Everything will be okay, Cas."

I wanted to tell him that nothing was okay and that nothing was going to be okay because my only chance of making everything okay died along with my last living parent, but that would have sounded incredibly morbid so I kept my mouth shut. Besides, Dean couldn't look at my face while we were hugging. If I said anything, he'd have to pull away to be able to know what it was, and I didn't want that yet.

Fortunately, Dean didn't seem to mind my refusal to let go of him. We stayed like that probably for a full minute or two and when I finally pulled away, the first words out of my mouth were, "Thank you." I followed that by doing the sign for thank you, and Dean smiled.

"You don't have to thank me, Cas."

"Yes, I do," I insisted. "I haven't even known you for a week and you're treating me like family. You are literally the only person in the world that I have right now, and I really appreciate being able to come over and feel like I have someone who cares when, otherwise, I'd be walking around aimlessly, completely alone. So thank you."

"Well, then... You're welcome."

I wiped my eyes with my sleeve and tried to get myself together a bit. "Oh, you should show me the sign for you're welcome."

It was pretty much the same as the sign for thank you, except instead of touching his lips he touched his chin. He also explained that a lot of people just did the sign for thank you and that really no two people sign the exact same way, and I made a mental note to start trying to learn more sign language on my own. Maybe I could surprise Dean with it.

"Do you want me to drive you home?" Dean asked, his hands resting on my shoulders. "Or do you want to stay here?"

His eyes drifted to my lips as he waited for me to answer, and I looked down. I felt uncomfortable asking to stay, but it was currently what I wanted more than anything. "I... I don't want to be alone."

"Gotta look up, angel. I'm sorry."

I looked up, really wishing he wouldn't apologize but unable to bring myself to say anything about it (not to mention the fact that being called angel was nice but extremely new and unexpected). I was only just about able to choke out my previous sentence. "I don't want to be alone."

He wiped away a tear that I was unaware was rolling down my cheek. "Then I won't let you be alone."

"I can leave, though," I said quickly. "I kind of just invited myself over, and that's-"

"Completely fine," Dean finished for me. "I get not wanting to be alone. Trust me, Cas, I do." He paused. "Have you eaten?"

"Not hungry," I said quietly.

He didn't push it, which I was grateful for. "Okay. Come on, then. Let's just watch TV or something. Would that be good?"

I nodded, almost crying again, but out of happiness this time. "That would be perfect."

It was so easy to be happy around Dean. And it was really easy to be happy while sitting right next to him on the couch we built together, sharing a blanket and watching episodes of American Dad that he had recorded. I stayed close to him the whole time and he didn't even seem to mind or be weirded out by it. In fact, I think he was even trying to stay close to me, too.

I'm not sure how long we stayed like that. Hours, I think. At one point Dean put an arm around me and I took that as an invitation to lean on him, and we stayed that way. At one point, I wanted to talk to him, but I didn't want to have to move so I took the little notepad and pen that were on the coffee table and wrote him a note instead.

_I felt like I had to thank you again. If I wasn't here right now I'd most likely be having a mental breakdown, alone in my apartment._

He read the note and then took the pen so he could write back. _I'm glad I was able to help, Cas. I really hate the thought of something bad happening to you._

I smiled at the note a little and looked back up at him. We only made eye contact for about a second before his gaze drifted down to my lips, but I wasn't planning on saying anything. And I think he knew that. Suddenly, I realized how close our faces were, and I let myself look at his lips just this once.

I was not prepared for the space between our lips to disappear, but when it did, I forgot about literally everything that I'd been devoting so much thought to. The only thing I could think about was the fact that Dean was kissing me. That was the only thing I was aware of, the only thing that mattered.

It was gentle, and it didn't last very long. Dean pulled away after a few seconds, blushing slightly, and he looked down.

"I'm so sorry," Dean said quietly. "I shouldn't have done that. You're all upset and I... I don't want to take advantage of that. That's not what I'm trying to do." He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. "I honestly... I like you. And... This isn't like me. Seriously, since I met you, I've felt different. In a good way, but...definitely different. But I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry." He paused again. "I can't hear myself, obviously, but I know I sound stupid. I'm sorry. I just really don't want you to think I would take advantage of-"

I cut him off by pressing my lips to his, harder this time. I didn’t want to hear him apologize anymore when somehow he'd managed to become easily one of the most amazing people I had ever known. So I kept kissing him, only slightly aware of his hand on the back of my head, and I found myself suddenly overcome with emotion. I could have kissed him forever, so it was not me that broke the kiss but the strangled sob that escaped my throat. I threw my arms around Dean and buried my face in his neck. He held me tight and let me cry.

When I decided I was ready to go home, Dean drove me back to my apartment. We kissed for a long time in the Impala before I got out.

//

Over the next couple days, I had to put aside my emotional instability and exhaustion to help Gabriel plan a funeral, because we were clearly the ones who were going to be responsible for that. Our biggest problem was figuring out who to invite.

"Well," I said, leaning back in my chair, "I don't know. Most of our family is dead."

"Come on, Cas, that's not true," Gabriel said, and sat there, trying to think of something to say to prove me wrong. But he couldn't, because our parents were both dead and our grandparents were dead before we were even born and we really didn't have very much family. "Don't we have an uncle?"

I thought about it for a few seconds. "Is that one guy our uncle?"

"I think so. And he has a girlfriend or something. Maybe they're married. Maybe we have an aunt."

"Maybe." I cupped my cheek with my hand, leaning on my kitchen table and looking at my brother, sitting across from me. "I definitely remember Dad having some friends."

"Yeah, I can probably get in touch with some of those guys," Gabriel said, nodding. "I mean, unless they died in drunk driving accidents or overdosed on heavy drugs."

"Which are both possibilities," I agreed. Now that I was older, I was well aware of the things our dad must have been doing with those friends when he left us alone almost every day and night.

"Hey, Dean could come," Gabriel suggested. "And maybe he could bring his brother if he wants. The more people, the better, really. We clearly don't have a very long guest list."

Normally, Gabriel would have teased me about bringing my boyfriend, but he wasn't up for teasing me much lately. There were a few reasons for this, one being that he just wasn't as happy as he usually was. And, of course, he knew I was in rough shape. And then there was the fact that it was unclear to him whether or not Dean was actually my boyfriend. He knew we kissed, and what fun would it be to tease me about having a boyfriend if I  _actually_ had a boyfriend? He respected my privacy enough to not ask about what was going on between us (since now things were a little more serious than me just having a crush on the cute guy from work), and that was good because I honestly didn't know what I would tell him if he did ask. I couldn't confirm that Dean and I were together because I really wasn't sure myself. The kiss in Dean's car had been the last one. Dean had been over a couple times to bring me food and to keep me company, but I was pretty sure he was still too scared to kiss me out of fear that I'd feel like he was taking advantage of me while I was still upset. That wouldn’t have been the case, but I thought it was sweet of him, anyway. Besides, I didn't mind not kissing or being in an actual relationship. Cuddling on the couch was all I needed and probably all I would have been able to even handle at that point in time.

"I'll ask him," I said quietly. "Speaking of Dean, he's going to be coming over soon, just so you know."

"Okay, well, I think we're just about done with this crap, anyway. I'll get going and give you guys some time." He paused. "Wasn't he over here this morning, though?"

"Yeah, just to check in. Now he's bringing dinner," I said with a shrug.

"Ah, so he's getting you to eat. Good. I was afraid you weren't, and God knows I can't get you to. I'll have to thank him next time I see him."

Oh, besides not sleeping, occasionally not eating much was another habit of mine that worried Gabriel. I was a mess.

"So, day after tomorrow, right?" I questioned.

Gabriel nodded, confirming the day of the funeral. "Yeah. And then we have one more day out of work after that." He stood up and stretched. "I'm going home. So tired. Seeya later, baby bro."

"Bye, Gabriel."

After he left, it wasn’t long before Dean arrived. He texted me and I went downstairs to let him in (buzzing him in just hadn’t been working out- it was really hard when the person didn't know whether you were buzzing them in or not) and help him carry the food he brought over.

"Here," I said, handing him a few dollars once we were in my apartment and starting to eat.

He sighed and accepted the money. "I hope you know that the only reason I've been letting you pay for your food is because it makes you more comfortable."

"And it does," I replied with a small smile.

We were eating at the kitchen table instead of in the living room with the TV on, just for a change. It was nice because we were across from each other, so it was much more convenient for Dean to read my lips this way.

"Oh, I wanted to ask you something," I began nervously before he looked away. "My dad's funeral is on Tuesday at two, and... You don't have to come, but... you're invited. And so is Sam. We don't have many people going and it would be nice if you came."

He nodded. "Yeah, I only teach classes in the morning, and I'll see if Sam can get out of work. But I'd like to be able to be there with you."

I swear I almost started crying again. "Thank you, Dean. It means a lot to me."

"Well,  _you_ mean a lot to _me_ , angel."

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't want to scare you, but I vaguely remember having an Uncle Needles for the first six years of my life."

 

"Gabriel?"

"Yeah?"

"Please explain to me why this place is almost full."

"I got in touch with a lot of Dad's old friends, and I told them all to bring someone."

"Alright. Now please explain to me why this place is almost full of angry alcoholic bikers who probably have guns and cocaine on them at all times."

"Like I said. I got in touch with a lot of Dad's old friends. And I told them all to bring someone."

I rubbed my arm nervously and looked around the room. There was not one person who didn't look shady and who didn't scare me a little. My brother and I were standing by the door, greeting people as they came in and accepting condolences from people we didn't know and would have rather not known.

"Gabe? Cas?" some guy said, entering the room. He looked like the others- black leather jacket, boots, tattoos of crosses and faces and what I assumed were gang symbols. "Is that you, boys?"

"Um... Yes?" Gabriel answered, smiling but still looking slightly terrified. "Unless you're planning on murdering us, in which case we work here."

"I haven't seen you since you were babies!" the guy exclaimed in his deep, scratchy voice. "I bet you don't even remember me!"

"Correct," I said, my slightly higher-pitched than usual.

He patted us both roughly on the back before going to sit down and calling over his shoulder, "Good to see you all grown up!"

I looked at Gabriel with wide eyes and whispered, "Who was that?"

"I don't want to scare you, but I vaguely remember having an Uncle Needles for the first six years of my life."

"This is too much, Gabriel," I said, close to tears. I couldn't deal with this. I had to leave.

"Wait, no, the normal uncle is still coming, I think," Gabriel assured me. "Mom's brother. He's okay, I think."

"Can't be anyone too great. If he was, he would've saved us from having a childhood where we had an Uncle Needles and a Dad who hated us." I blinked back tears and pushed the door open. "I'm sorry. I need to get some air."

"Cas, wait," Gabriel begged.

I shook my head. "I'll be back."

I left the funeral home and stood in the parking lot, leaning against the building. I didn't want to let myself cry, so I put all my energy into preventing that. Apparently this meant I didn't have enough energy left over to remain standing, so I slid down, my back still against the building, until I was sitting on the ground. My main focus was still not crying.

"Cas?"

I looked up to see the only person I would have had any desire to see. Of course Dean was there. He was always there at the right times.

"You came," I choked out, looking up at him.

He knelt down, seemingly not caring about getting the suit he was wearing dirty. "I said I would, didn't I? Wanted to be here for you. Why wouldn't I come? I promised."

"I wouldn't have held you to it," I said, hugging my knees to my chest and watching him sit down in front of me, cross-legged on the ground. "Breaking a promise wouldn't be the worst thing someone's done to me." I regretted those words as soon as they left my mouth. Dean was here, and I was complaining to him?

He pressed his lips together and nodded. "People suck."

I nodded in agreement, and we just sat there for a few seconds.

"Oh, Sam's here," he spoke up. "He's in the car, talking on the phone."

I smiled a little. "So at least there will be two people at this funeral who don't scare me."

"Scare..? Sorry, I think... You're gonna have to repeat that. I'm pretty sure I got that wrong."

"You didn't," I told him, shaking my head. "You'll see."

He stood up, and reached down, holding his hand out to me. "Come on, Cas. We should go in together."

I took his hand before standing up as well. "Okay."

I planned on walking back inside, but I was much too distracted by the fact that Dean and I were still holding hands.

"Oh, sorry," Dean said quickly, pulling his hand away, cheeks turning slightly red.

I wanted to tell him that it was okay and I kind of liked it, but we were then joined by Sam, who was shoving his phone in his pocket.

"Hey, Cas," he greeted, smiling a bit. He looked stressed and tired. "I, um, Dean caught me up... I'm really sorry about what happened."

"Oh, thank you," I replied quietly, looking down. "Thanks for coming. I'm not very close to... Well, anyone in there, other than my brother. So... It means a lot."

"No problem," Sam replied. "Glad I could make it. Should we go in?"

"Yes, I suppose we should," I answered nervously.

Dean put his hand on my shoulder as I led them inside the funeral home.

It was five minutes in. That's it. Five minutes in and I was already trembling and could only just about breathe. As if things weren't bad enough, Gabriel had reminded me that we were going to have to speak. I'm not sure why this came as a surprise to me- we were at our dad's funeral that _we_ planned, of course we were going to have to say something. He was just beginning his clearly not very planned out speech, and I was sitting next to Dean in the front row, trying to pay attention. Next to Dean, Sam was translating everything my brother was saying into sign language for his brother.

"Um, the past few days... have been Hell, honestly," Gabriel began. "Losing my dad has been really hard. And putting all of this together with my brother added a lot of stress. But... Having everyone here, you know, it's worth it. Because my dad did a lot for me. So... Doing this, this is the least I can do."

He paused, and I tried to think of anything our dad had ever done for either of us. Working crappy jobs for a few months before getting fired or quitting and moving on to the next one was just about the only thing I could think of. I wouldn't say that was doing a lot for us, but I suppose the money did allow us to have an apartment and enough food.

"I know my dad had his problems, but he really was a good person," Gabriel continued. "And he was my father. So losing him really hurts. It's comforting that I was able to see him so much before he died and make the end of his life less... lonely. So... Um... I think my brother wanted to say a few words."

He started to walk back to his seat, and I took a deep breath.

Dean squeezed my hand, trying to reassure me. "You'll be fine. Focus on me."

I nodded and stood up, slowly walking to the front of the room to take Gabriel's place behind the podium that was set up. I looked at my audience that consisted mostly of intimidating bikers, and my eyes settled on Sam and Dean in the front row.

"Um, hello," I began nervously. "I just wanted to say that... I wanted to thank everyone for coming and supporting me and my brother. And... I hope my dad is at peace now, because I know... I know he wasn't when he was alive. I know he had problems and then of course he went through a lot of physical pain towards the end, and although it hurts to lose him, I'm happy that he's free from that. But... Uh... I really do hate this, and I wish he was still here with me. There are so many things I should have said before he died. But... You know, I'm not so good at that. So...Rest in peace, Dad." I hesitated. "I love you."

Those last words felt foreign on my tongue. When was the last time I'd told somebody that I loved them? Probably back when I was a little kid, to Gabriel. Maybe I said it to a girl I dated in high school. But those were the only times I could think of. It hurt to say.

I sat back down, hands still shaking, and Dean patted me on the back in an awkward attempt to comfort me.

When it was finally over, I was the first one to leave. Gabriel could deal with saying goodbye to people. I had to get out. Luckily, there wasn't going to be a burial to attend- our father had wanted to be cremated. Sam and Dean followed me out, stopping in the middle of the parking lot when I did.

"Are you okay?" Sam questioned.

"Yes," I choked out. It was obviously a lie, but was I really supposed to tell him that I wasn't? "I just remembered that my brother is my ride. I haven't gotten my car back yet."

Honestly, my car had been the farthest thing from my mind lately, despite the many inconveniences that living without it had caused.

"We can drive you home," Sam offered.

I knew my brother would probably be mad at me for leaving without me, but I didn't care. I needed to be home. I didn't have any trouble accepting Sam's offer. "That would be great. Thank you."

And so, just like the first day that I'd met the brothers, Sam got in the driver's seat while Dean got in the passenger's seat and I sat in the back, right in the middle. It was silent for a few minutes until Dean put some music on, placing his hands on the dashboard and looking at me in the rearview mirror. "This is the Def Leppard tape, you know."

I managed to give him a weak smile, and focused on the music to distract myself from thoughts that would probably cause me to start crying in the back of Dean's car. I tried memorizing the lyrics to the song that was currently playing.

_You want me to promise you_   
_That everything is true_   
_I won't make promises that I can't keep_   
_I won't make promises that I don't mean_   
_I'll even mean the things I tell you in my sleep_

We arrived at my building right when the song ended, and Dean turned the radio off before turning around to look at me. "Are you going to be okay?"

I pressed my lips together and nodded.

"Do you want to be alone right now?" he asked. "Because if you do, I get that. But if you don't, it would really suck for you to have to be. And I'd be more than happy to stay here with you."

I thought about it for a few seconds. Did I want to be alone? What would I do? Probably have an emotional breakdown and hate myself. Things were always better when Dean was there.

"You wouldn't be able to get home," I replied.

"Get home? Is that what you said? You don't have to worry about that, I'd figure it out. Don't wanna leave you here alone if you need someone, angel. And I like being with you. So... Do you want to be alone?"

I hesitated. He wouldn't offer if he didn't really want to, would he? I shook my head to tell him that, no, I really didn't want to be alone. Especially if he really was willing to stay with me for a while.

"Then I won't leave you alone."

//

"You look like you're gonna be sick," Dean commented, as soon as we got inside my apartment. He put one hand on my shoulder and used the other hand to brush some hair out of my face.

I shook my head. "I'm not."

"Okay. You should lie down."

"Will you lie down with me?" I replied immediately, not even thinking. I should have regretted asking for something like that, but I can't lie- it was what I wanted.

Dean smiled a bit. "Sure."

"No, wait, that was... I shouldn't have... You don't have to do that if you're uncomfortable or anything. I'm... I wasn't even-"

"Cas," Dean interrupted. "I don't know what the Hell you're trying to say right now but you look nervous and embarrassed and I want you to calm down, okay?"

"But-"

I shut up the second his lips touched my forehead.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "If you want me to lie down with you..."

I nodded, and that was it.

I changed into an old tee shirt and sweatpants and let Dean borrow some more comfortable clothes so he didn't have to stay in his suit. I gave him one of my tree shirts that was a little big for me, so it fit him perfectly.

I can vaguely remember Dean throwing a blanket over me and lying down next to me on my couch (which was luckily just big enough for both of us) and then I must have fallen asleep to the sound of him telling me once again that everything was going to be okay and wiping away some tears that were rolling down my cheeks.

When I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing, it was getting dark out. Dean was lying behind me, lips pressed against the back of my neck and one hand on my waist. I could tell from the way he was breathing that he was sleeping peacefully, and I wondered for a brief moment why the annoying sound of my phone hadn't woken him up, as well, and then I began wondering why I was so stupid sometimes.

I managed to reach my phone on the coffee table without waking Dean and sighed when I saw that it was Gabriel who was calling me. I ignored it.

He called again almost immediately and this time I felt like I had to answer.

“What?” I asked quietly.

“What do you mean,  _what_?!” Gabriel demanded. “Where the fuck are you?! You left way too early and I’ve be trying to call you for the past two hours!”

“The funeral is still going on?” I asked groggily, squinting at the clock.

“No, it’s been over for two hours, which, again, is how long I’ve been trying to call you. Why the Hell would you just disappear like that?”

“I’m sorry,” I replied. “I'm at home.”

“How did you even get there?”

“Dean. And Sam. I'm sorry, I guess I fell asleep.”

There was a long pause. “Who are you with?”

"What?"

"Are you at home alone, or..?"

"I'm with Dean," I answered quietly.

"Oh. Okay."

"Are you okay?" I blurted out. What a stupid question. Of course he wasn't.

"Yeah," Gabriel replied, clearly lying. "I'll see you later, Cas."

He hung up before I could say goodbye. I wanted to cry.

Dean woke up a couple minutes after that and propped himself up on his elbow. I turned around so that we were facing each other.

"Hi," he greeted.

I managed a smile. "Hello."

"Feel any better?"

I nodded and sighed, wrapping my arms around his waist and closing my eyes. Things were pretty horrible in general, but in that moment, with Dean, things were kind of okay.

//

The next two days were spent texting Dean in between the classes he taught, trying to keep my mind off of things by learning some basic sign language, and trying to figure out if Gabriel was mad at me or not. The next two  _nights_ , however, were spent cursing at the moon, hating myself, not sleeping, and having multiple mental breakdowns.

Dean came over on my last day off before I had to go back to work and managed to get me to eat something. He also encouraged me to take one more day off because he said that I seriously needed it, but I couldn't do that. If I took any more days off I wasn't going to get paid, and I needed the money. I had to push aside my self hatred and whatever type of depression I was dealing with to focus on dealing with real problems, such as paying my rent and getting my car back.

Eventually, I was waking up after about two hours of sleep to the horrible sound of my alarm. I forced myself to get dressed and when Gabriel got there to pick me up, I was completely miserable and really didn't feel like dealing with my brother who was mad at me or something, but I got in the car anyway, knowing I had no choice.

When we got to work, we had to open up, so we were there before everyone else once again. And, like usual, we either had nothing to do or chose to ignore whatever responsibilities we had- I couldn't remember which. I sat up on the counter and soon, Gabriel joined me.

"Hi," he said, looking at me.

I took advantage of the fact that he was talking to me. "Are you mad at me?"

He sighed heavily before answering. "No. Not anymore. I was a little pissed that you left me alone at the funeral, but now I'm just kind of pissed at the world."

"Oh. Okay."

He didn't say anything else after that and I wasn't really sure what to do, so I took my phone out. I opened the Internet and the tab I had opened before was still there- the one about the movie theaters who had assisted hearing devices and subtitles. I wanted to take Dean to one so badly.

When the mall opened and customers started arriving, Gabriel and I made it extremely obvious that we weren't really up for dealing with people. We tried to help customers but mostly we just let the other employees handle it all and we worked at the registers.

"Isn't this fun?" Gabriel said to me at one point. "Isn't this the most fun day you've ever had?"

"No."

He sighed heavily. "Sarcasm, Cas."

There was a long pause. Things seemed to have slowed down a little- there weren't many customers in the store, and there was no one at the counter. Our boss and the other employees were going easy on us since they all knew what had happened, so we were able to get away with doing absolutely nothing for long periods of time as long as we just stood there looking miserable, which was not a problem.

"You know, it's weird, baby brother," Gabriel said, finally breaking the silence. He waited a couple seconds before continuing. "He was a real person. Dad was, like, a real guy with a real life, most of which we knew nothing about. And now he's gone. I mean, a year ago today, he was just living his life, doing whatever had to be done that day. And today he's dead. We'll never see him again, never hear his voice again. No one will."

"I don't like this conversation," I responded.

He sighed again and leaned on the counter. About one minute later, someone approached the counter, and I was incredibly relieved to see that it was Dean.

I smiled a little when I saw him. "Do you need help finding something?"

He shook his head. "I just finished teaching a class. Thought I'd come see you."

"Um, there's... I have to do something," I decided. I quickly scrawled something down on the back of someone's forgotten receipt before walking around to the other side of the counter and gently grabbing Dean's arm, pulling him off to the side.

"What is it?" he questioned.

"I had to do this." I gave him the note, my hands shaking. But I really did have to do this.

Dean looked down and read my sloppily-written note. He smiled a little. "Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll go out with you."

I swear I saw Gabriel smile a little out of the corner of my eye.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dude, you keep smiling and it's freaking me out."

"Well. Here we are," Dean said quietly. 

"Yeah," I breathed. "Here we are." 

He took my hand in his as we stood there inside the movie theater, unsure of what to do next. There was barely anyone there, probably partially because it was a Tuesday night and partially because this theater played their movies with subtitles at this specific time.  

I looked at Dean. "What movie do you want to see?" 

He shifted uncomfortably. "Doesn't really matter to me. Whatever you want to see. Just no chick flicks." 

I looked around. There weren't really any movies I wanted to see. I didn't even know what movies were out. I saw a poster for the new Batman movie and pointed at it, looking at Dean questioningly.  

He smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah, that works." 

I was able to convince him to let me pay for the tickets ( _"I wanted to take you out, Dean, please let me buy the- stop looking at me like that- I'm buying the tickets and you can't stop me_ _,_ _”_ ) as long as he was allowed to pay for snacks ( _“Come on,_ _Cas_ _, I'm probably going t_ _o end up eating it all, anyway,_ _“_ ) and we entered the theater together.  

It wasn't any different from seeing any other movie. The subtitles, in my opinion, made it much easier to follow what was going on, especially since I kept zoning out every now and then, probably because I was very distracted by the fact that I was on a date (?) with Dean Winchester. He seemed to be enjoying himself, and every few minutes or so he would turn to look at me and smile a little, which, of course, made me smile. And at one point, while I had my arm on the armrest, he put his hand over mine and interlaced our fingers. So much for paying any attention to the movie. 

// 

 _Thank you so much for tonight, Cas. I had fun._  

I smiled when I read the note. We were at Dean's apartment, sitting on his couch. It reminded me of the night I helped him put it together- that was one of my favorite memories. We were sitting cross-legged, facing each other, and he'd taken out a notepad and a pen for us to use to talk to each other. I liked that. It was quiet, but we were still able to communicate, and I was able to think about everything I wanted to say.  

 _Thank you for agreeing to come. I had fun, too. I needed that,_ I wrote back, handing him the notepad. 

 _We should go out together again sometime,_ Dean wrote, and showed me the notepad.  

I nodded, smiling. He actually wanted to go out with me again. I didn't know _why,_ but I did know that hearing that made me happier than anything else I could ever think of.  

"Hey," Dean spoke up quietly, voice cracking a bit, "do you want to learn some more sign language?" 

"Sure," I replied, suddenly realizing how close we actually were and pressing my lips together. 

He quickly did a few signs in a row that involved touching his lips, touching his fingertips together, and tapping his chest with his index finger. 

"What does that mean?" I questioned. 

Dean smirked and picked up the pen to write down his response. When he showed it to me, my heart immediately started beating faster.  

 _Kiss me._  

I looked up at him. Even in the little light that there was in the room, his eyes were greener than ever. He was staring at my lips, and I hesitated. We'd kissed before. I didn't know why this was different. 

I swallowed hard and finally pressed my lips to his. He put a hand on my cheek and I realized that, yes, this time _was_ different. Because this time I was pretty sure I loved him.  

 _NO,_ I thought, still kissing him, putting a hand on the back of his head. _NO NO NO NO NO. WHAT AM I DOING. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING. WHY DO I LIKE THIS._  

If you can't tell, I wasn't prepared nor was I hoping to love someone at that point in my life. 

Dean pulled away and smiled at me before grabbing the pen and notepad and quickly writing something down. 

 _We should do that again sometime, too._  

I nodded, lips slightly parted, staring down at the note. 

// 

It was not easy to focus on anything related to CDs the next day. Unlike most other days, though, I wasn't nervous or upset about anything. I was just happy. Someone mentioned Coldplay and even that wasn't enough to ruin my mood. 

Gabriel seemed to pick up on this pretty quickly. "Dude, you keep smiling and it's freaking me out." 

His teasing wasn't annoying in the least bit today. In fact, it was kind of reassuring- kind of a sign that he was feeling better ever since Dad died. "Yeah. I'm happy today."  

"That's good. I'm assuming your date went well, then?" 

I only answered with a small smile and the next thing I knew, Dean was coming up to the counter. 

"Hi," he greeted quietly. "I have class to teach soon, but I thought I'd stop by on the way." 

"It's nice to see you," I replied, completely unsure of whether or not I'd said that clearly enough for him to be able to read my lips. I leaned over the counter so I could kiss him. 

"I'm going to take that as a yes, your date definitely went well," Gabriel said. 

I rolled my eyes, ignoring him.  

"I, um, wanted to ask you something," Dean told me. 

I nodded and walked around to the other side of the counter, pulling him off to the side a little so we weren't in the way of anyone. I ignored the butterflies in my stomach brought into existence by that simple phrase- _I wanted to ask you something._  

"What is it?" I questioned. 

"Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?" 

That question came as a bit of a surprise. I hadn't thought about the fact that Thanksgiving was quickly approaching, and I wasn't completely sure how it was going to be this year. It was pretty much always just me and Gabriel sitting in his living room, watching movies and eating a lot. We may not have had a turkey most of the time, but what we did have was a ton of candy, thanks to Gabriel. It wasn't what most people would call the best tradition, but it included the only person I was really grateful for as well as candy, so I didn't see what there was to dislike about it. This year, however, I was thankful for more than just Gabriel. The fact that I wanted to spend Thanksgiving with Dean too hadn't even occurred to me, but now I realized that I really, really did. 

"It's probably just going to be me and my brother," I told him. 

"Do you maybe want to come have Thanksgiving with me and Sam at my apartment? Your brother can come, too, of course... You don't have to, it's just usually only me and him and I thought it would be nice to spend Thanksgiving with you." 

"I'd love that," I answered, nodding. "That would be really nice." 

// 

Thanksgiving dinner was pretty great. I sat next to Dean, across from Sam and Gabriel. Sam had cooked most of the food, and I was surprised at how good it was. I guess I never really imagined Sam to be such a good cook. Gabriel seemed thrilled to be eating turkey on Thanksgiving, and I didn't blame him. We hadn't had a traditional dinner in years. 

It wasn't nearly as awkward as I thought it would be. I may have not been the greatest at keeping a conversation going- in fact, I was absolutely terrible at it most of the time- but my brother was really good at that. There was also the fact that Dean being with me made it easier for me to talk, for some reason. It wasn't even awkward when their Uncle Bobby stopped by to visit. The brothers seemed to adore him, and he was the first family member of Dean's that I'd met other than Sam. 

But the most memorable part of the night was after dinner. Sam and Gabriel seemed to have bonded and were playing video games in the living room while Dean and I watched, sitting together on the couch we'd built together. His arms were looped loosely around me and every once in a while he'd kiss my cheek before turning his attention back to the game our brothers were playing. 

"Hey," Dean whispered quietly at one point, "come outside with me?" 

I nodded, and we didn't even bother telling Sam and Gabriel where we were going before leaving the apartment building. As soon as we stepped outside, the cold hit me hard. The only warm part of me was one of my hands, which Dean was holding tightly with one of his own. He led me to his car and boosted himself up to sit on the trunk, motioning for me to do the same. I sat there next to him, not even caring about the cold anymore.  

Dean looked up at the sky, at the many stars that had appeared while we were watching Sam and Gabriel bond over shooting fake people and figuring out cheat codes, sitting on the floor of Dean's living room together. I looked up, as well, and took my phone out of my pocket, opening my notes app once again. In quiet moments like these, writing things down or typing things were my favorite ways to communicate with Dean. There was no noise for him to miss out on, and I was able to say everything I wanted to say without fear of him missing something. I could choose my words carefully and Dean could be positive that he understood what I was trying to tell him.  

 _The stars look beautiful_ , I typed, showing my phone to Dean. 

Something had changed. There was a certain sadness in his green eyes when he looked at me and smiled a bit, quickly kissing me before looking down at his hands in his lap. "I'm sorry. The holidays aren't the best time of year for me." 

I slid close enough to him so that our shoulders were touching. I wanted to hear more, but I didn't want to seem like I was pushing him, so I decided not to say anything. 

"I just think about my parents a lot," Dean said quietly.  

I looked at him, noticing that his eyes were now watering, waiting for him to say more. 

"My mom died when I was really young," he told me. "Sam was just a baby. My dad was hard on us for a while because of it, but he was really just upset, and I still loved him. Then he died in a car crash. Me and Sammy were with him. Sam was the only one who didn't really get hurt... I got a head injury and haven’t been able to hear since. I think about that stuff a lot this time of year." Dean paused. "I'm sorry. I know you've been going through a lot lately and I probably shouldn't have brought that up. I don't know why I'm talking about this." 

I put an arm around him, hoping to get the message across that he had nothing to be sorry for, and he let his head rest on my shoulder. I wasn't sure how, but I was determined to make the holidays better for him. That was my new goal.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When I finally looked back at Dean, he was staring up at the sky. I looked up, too, but the stars sprinkled across the dark sky were not nearly as beautiful as the freckles sprinkled across Dean's cheeks.

Thanksgiving was over. This meant that if I wanted to accomplish my goal of making the holidays better for Dean, I had to focus on Christmas. I didn't have very much money, so getting him some kind of fancy gift wasn't an option, but I knew that a fancy gift wasn't the way to go, anyway.

Which narrowed my options down to literally anything that didn't involve a fancy gift. Helpful.

I had a month to think about it, and during that month, things began changing a little bit. For the most part, these were all good changes at first.

I started getting more sleep on the nights that I spent at Dean's apartment, as well as the nights he spent at my apartment. Being around Dean was the best way to clear my head, and when I was able to clear my head, the only thing I had to focus on was how tired I was, and it made sleep easy. 

Another thing that changed was that, for the first time, I had someone to talk to about literally anything. I mean, there was always Gabriel, but there were some things that I just couldn't tell my brother. If I talked to him about any problems I was having, he would immediately start to worry. He would get mad at himself for not noticing that there was something wrong and he would devote way too much thought to the fact that there was something wrong with me. Was it nice to have someone who cared so much about me like that? Of course. But did I want to put my brother through any of that? Absolutely not. 

Things were different with Dean. He was easier to talk to than anyone else I had ever met from the very beginning. He was always able to make me feel better, which was kind of amazing. I even told him that I loved him a few times, and before I met Dean, that wasn't something I imagined myself saying for a long time.

When he first found out about my sleeping problems, that was the night that I was able to get more sleep than I could remember getting in so long. Years, probably.

I was sitting on the edge of my bed, hugging my knees to my chest while Dean stood in front of me, head tilted slightly to the side. This was going to be the first night that we attempted to intentionally fall asleep together in the same bed. To most people that may sound like a small step in a relationship, but for us, it was quite the opposite. Every time we fell asleep together, it was on one of our couches, and we'd never really meant to fall asleep. This kind of felt like a big deal, and I was definitely nervous. Every night when I went to bed, I would lie there for hours, unable to fall asleep. What if tonight wasn't any different? I'd been able to sleep around him before, but never in my bed when I was actually going to be trying to fall asleep. What if I had another horrible night where I couldn't sleep at all and ended up having another mental breakdown or something?

"I can tell something is wrong," Dean said quietly. "If you're not comfortable, we seriously don't have to go through with this, you know... But, really, the plan is just to sleep. Nothing else."

"I know," I replied, and I couldn't bring myself to say anything else. Some things were just hard to talk about, even with Dean.

A couple seconds passed before Dean grabbed the notebook and pen that I had on the little table next to my bed. He handed it to me, and I looked up at him thankfully before opening up to a blank page and trying to think of a way to write everything out that I wanted to say. Using a pen and paper to communicate wasn't even just for Dean, anymore. It was for me, too- I think we both knew that. I liked being able to think about what I was saying. I liked knowing exactly what I was telling Dean, and holding a pen was quite simply just easier than speaking for me.

_I usually have a lot of trouble sleeping,_ I wrote in messy handwriting before showing the notepad to Dean.

He didn't question why I'd never told him about this, or why I never seemed to have trouble sleeping around him before. He just nodded and wrote back, _If you can't sleep, I'll stay awake with you_.

He didn't end up needing to stay up with me for very long. 

Things seemed to be getting better for a little while. My dad left me and Gabriel everything he had, which was mostly just some money, and I was able to get my car back. It was possibly the most helpful thing my father had ever done for me. Work wasn't as bad with visits from Dean during his lunch hours almost every day, even with all the holiday shopping, which always made things much more chaotic. (Plus, Coldplay had released _another album_ and it was making everything worse, and I still hated them.) 

But after a while, I couldn't help but notice that something was wrong with Dean. He was smiling less and less, and it was easy to see that he was sad about something most of the time. It hurt to see him upset like that, and I wanted to help him, but I didn't know what to do. The only thing I really could do was talk to him about it, so I hoped and prayed that I wouldn't mess up. 

We were sitting outside on the trunk of the Impala again outside of Dean's apartment building. It was dark out, the only sources of light being the street lights and the stars in the sky. This had become one of our favorite things to do, even when it was as cold out as it was right now. It never felt quite as cold as it really was in these moments. 

I opened up the notes app on my phone and nervously typed something out before handing the phone to Dean.

_Are you okay?_

He looked up at me, unsure of how to answer the question. With the way I was looking at him, I was hoping that it was clear that I knew something was wrong and was really asking what it was.

He typed back his response slowly, and handed the phone back so I could read it.

_I haven't felt very good about myself lately._

I stared at those words for a long time. I didn't know what to say and I didn't know how to say it. When I finally looked back at Dean, he was staring up at the sky. I looked up, too, but the stars sprinkled across the dark sky were not nearly as beautiful as the freckles sprinkled across Dean's cheeks. 

"Sam started going to therapy," Dean said quietly, breaking the silence. "His girlfriend died a while ago and he hasn't been doing very well since then." He paused, and when he started speaking again, the volume of his voice decreased even more. "I'm happy that he's gonna get better. But I feel horrible that I couldn't help him."

He looked up at me, and in the dim light I could see that he was on the verge of tears.

"That isn't your fault," I told him.

He continued staring at my lips for a while after I'd finished that sentence, and I wondered if he hadn't been able to figure out what I'd said or if he just wasn't sure how to respond. It felt like a long time before he spoke up again.

"Sometimes I wonder how different things would be if... if _I_  was different. If I could still hear." That was already enough to make me want to cry. "I really hate that I can't hear, Cas. I hate that I don't know how I sound when I talk to you or anyone else. I hate that people don't know how to talk to me and usually don't bother trying."

I wanted to be able to say something, but he wasn't looking at me, and I couldn't think of anything anyway.

"I listen to the Def Leppard tape you found for me all the time, but... I can't hear it. The vibrations were nice for a while, but..." He took one of my hands in both of his, sighing heavily. "Now they're just a reminder that I can't hear."

I used my free hand to wipe away the tear that was now rolling down his cheek. I didn't know what to do; I didn't know how to comfort someone who felt like this. So I just kept listening.

"I hate that I'm never going to know what you sound like," Dean continued. His voice was even quieter now. "I'm never going to be able to hear you say that you love me. That just... kinda hurts, Cas." He let go of my hand and wiped his eyes. At this point, he was stumbling over his words, which wasn't something that happened very often. "Sometimes I think that maybe you deserve better than me."

That was it. That hurt to hear more than anything else. 

"Never say that again," I told him, making sure he was looking at me. I needed him to know that the thought of him not being good enough for me sounded absolutely insane.

"Sorry," Dean replied, voice cracking as he wiped his eyes again. "I don't know why I feel like this lately." He looked up at me again and tried to smile. "So, tell me things, Cas."

I stared at him blankly. What was I supposed to say after all that?

"Tell me new things about yourself," Dean said quietly.

So we talked for what must have been hours after that, switching between him reading my lips and typing on my notes app, and then writing on the backs of receipts from the music store that I had in my pocket when my phone died. I told him everything I could think of. I even told him about the times I would break down in the middle of the night and talk to the moon. I don't know why I told him, but he wanted to know more about me, and there weren't many other things to tell. 

You could say things kind of went downhill from there. That night was good, but everything after it was not. 

Over the next few weeks, Dean was really distant. More so than he ever had been before. We went days without seeing each other, or even texting each other, which was new for us. He stopped visiting the music store. Gabriel didn't ask about this, but whenever lunch time rolled around, he would keep looking at me, probably hoping for some kind of explanation as to why Dean wasn't there. I'm glad he never actually asked, though. I don't know what I would have told him.

The only times I would actually be able to talk to Dean were the times that I texted him first, and the only times I would get to see him were the times that I offered for him to come over. I was starting to see him less and less, and it was killing me. I just wanted to talk to him, but every time I tried I felt like I was bothering him. Was this really because he didn't think he was good enough for me? That sounded completely insane to me, but if Dean was feeling that bad about himself, maybe he truly believed that. I wanted to help him, but if I couldn't talk to him, I wasn't sure how to do that, which was causing me to get so mad at myself. I tried learning more sign language to distract myself from everything, but it was really just something else to remind me of Dean.

I went entire nights without sleeping sometimes. Mental breakdowns in the middle of the night became the usual, much like they were before I had Dean. 

It got to be too much. I wasn't a huge fan of inviting myself over other people's houses, but I didn't think I had many other options at this point. 

When I got to Dean's apartment building, I texted him to say that I was there and really needed to see him. He buzzed me in a few seconds after that.

Dean's apartment was a little messier than usual, and Dean was sitting on the couch that we'd put together a while ago. He looked up at me and smiled weakly. "Hi, Cas."

I sighed heavily, going to sit down next to him. "Hello, Dean."

He looked down at his hands in his lap. We just kind of sat there for a few seconds before he finally decided to look up at me. He gave me an expectant look, and it became very clear that I was going to have to be the one to start the conversation. 

"You're not okay," I said quietly. 

He pressed his lips together and looked down again. "You don't need me, Cas. I want you to be happy. I don't want you to have to deal with me."

I took out my phone and opened up my notes app, typing out everything I'd wanted to say to him for so long and not even reading over it before I handed the phone to him.

_I know you see yourself as a burden but I enjoy being around you, Dean. You are my favorite person to talk to. In fact, lately, you've been the only person I even can talk to. If I did or said anything wrong, please, please tell me. I love you._

He stared at the screen for a long time before using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe his eyes. He gave my phone back to me and hugged his knees to his chest, almost curled up on the couch. "Cas, it hurts when I'm not with you. I don't want you to think that this is because of something you did. I mean, for the love of God, I can't even look at this damn couch lately because it just makes me think of the night I fell in love with you." He paused, the corner of his mouth twitching a bit, but he didn't smile. "Yeah... It's been that long. But I don't... I can't..." He took a few deep breaths, trying to find the right words, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say. I knew how that felt. "Most of the people I meet through work, with the sign language classes I teach and everything, they don't mind not being able to hear. They're able to be proud of it, almost. I try to reassure them all the time that it doesn't change how people see them, that people won't care, but I... I can't really believe that myself, Cas."

He was stumbling over his words more than he ever had (that I had heard, anyway) and everything coming out of his mouth was making my chest ache. 

"Normally I try not to really care what people think," Dean continued quickly. "But I care what _you_ think. I know you say that you like talking to me right now, but one day, I know it's going to get frustrating for you. I know it is. You have to think about what it means, Cas. I will never, _ever_ hear what you sound like. Like I said before... I'll never be able to hear you say that you love me. Which hurts for me, of course, but that's gotta bother you, too... At least a little... I love you, but I don't like myself very much." His voice kept cracking, indicating that he might break into sobs at any second, now. "I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. I guess... I guess what I'm trying to tell you is that anything you ever say, any words that ever leave your mouth, will just end up lost between the two of us. I'll never really be able to hear you. But... At least you've got the moon, right?" 

I choked back some tears, and managed to respond to that. I made damn sure he'd be able to read my lips when I spoke. "No. I don't want the moon. Fuck the moon. I want _you_."

From the look on his face, I knew for a fact that those words were not lost between the two of us.

"I want you, too," he responded quietly, allowing the tears to spill out and roll down his cheeks. He smiled a bit, but it was possibly the saddest smile I had ever seen. "I'd put up with just the vibrations forever to be with you."


	12. Chapter 12

For a long time, I figured there was nothing I could ever get Dean for Christmas that would be good enough for him. I knew that gifts didn't _really_ matter, but I felt like this one did. It had to be amazing enough to convince him that I really did love him, and that I wasn't going to get frustrated with the fact that he couldn't hear. But above anything else, I just wanted him to be happy. 

On one of the nights that Dean spent the night at my apartment, I found myself riddled with the same insomnia that I had before he came into my life. It was almost as hard to sleep knowing that Dean was so stressed and insecure as it was to sleep without him being there. 

I sat up in my bed, glancing down at Dean, who had fallen asleep almost instantly when we first went to bed. He had been so tired lately. I then looked at the window, where some moonlight was shining through and spilling onto my bedroom floor, and I was reminded of the many things I'd only ever told the moon.

What would I say to it tonight, if I could find my voice? I wasn't sure. I didn't really have any words left for the moon- I now only had words for Dean. My eyes once again shifted from the window to him, asleep beside me.

"I love you," I said quietly, lying back down. I knew he couldn't hear me, but I wasn't saying it so that he could hear me. I needed to sort out whatever was going on in my head before I was actually able to sleep. "I know it hurts you sometimes that you can't hear, and that you can't hear me tell you that I love you. But I do. I love you a lot, and I don't think that's ever going to change. I just want you to be able to believe that." By now, I could feel myself slowly starting to fall asleep, but I continued to ramble on. "I'm always going to love you. I'm going to prove it. You don't need to hear me, I'll show you some other way. I promise."

And with that, I must have fallen asleep.

With Christmas approaching, work was hectic. For the first time in quite a few years, however, I didn't really mind. I wasn't really focused on the fact that things were much busier than I would have liked them to be. Even when people were asking me questions and I was trying to help them find things in the store, which had become a complete mess at this point in the year, my mind was completely preoccupied with trying to think of what I was going to get for Dean for Christmas. I had already gotten a couple of CDs for Gabriel, along with literally a bucket full of junk food, and I grabbed an album by a band that I was pretty sure Sam liked, so most of my Christmas shopping was done. The easy part was done.

Once I was in my car, finally heading home for the night, I was even more focused on anything and everything having to do with Dean. I had thought that he crossed my mind a bit too much when we first met, but that was nothing compared to now. He was hurting.

_I'm never going to be able to hear you say that you love me._

Those words had replayed in my head quite a few times ever since Dean first confessed how much his inability to hear truly affected him. It made sense that he was feeling all of this now, with being in a relationship. Normally, thinking about that just made me sad, but now the words sparked an idea. 

I could tell Dean that I loved him a million times and it wouldn't make as much of a difference to him as it would if he was able to hear it. I wasn't able to give him the ability to hear my voice, of course, but I may have been able to do something almost as nice for him. The first step, which took place as soon as I got back to my apartment, was to record myself saying _I love you_ on my phone before Dean came over to spend the night. The rest would have to wait until the next time I was alone. 

My insomnia returned over the next few weeks or so, most likely brought on by the doubt I had about the gift I would be giving to Dean in only a few day's time. On Christmas Eve, which I spent at Dean's apartment, I barely slept longer than an hour. By that point, my gift to him was wrapped and under the Christmas tree that we'd gotten together (and decorated while laughing about the couch incident, which we couldn't help but be reminded of). Sam and Gabriel would be over in the morning so that we could all exchange gifts, and I could only hope that what I planned on giving Dean would be enough.

I stayed awake for a long time, lying on my back and staring at the ceiling. The window in Dean's bedroom wasn't in a place where you could look out of it if you were lying in bed, unlike the way my own bedroom was set up, which may have actually been a good thing- it may have been the only thing keeping me from spewing broken down nonsense to the night sky, like I used to on my insomnia-filled nights. Doing that on Christmas Eve would just be way too depressing. Then I looked over and realized that, considering who was sleeping next to me, I should have felt like the happiest person in the world, and that was enough to get me to fall asleep.

In the morning, I was awoken by the sudden movement of Dean sitting up in bed. He rubbed his eyes and when I sat up to join him, he looked at me and smiled. 

"Merry Christmas," he greeted in a sleepy voice that I almost had to strain to hear.

"Merry Christmas," I replied, and of course I smiled back at him. It may have been the middle of winter, but the light in the room seemed warmer than ever. 

He ran a few fingers through my hair and laughed. "How does your hair get so messy just from sleeping? I love it."

I laughed as well, my cheeks feeling hot for some reason, and I looked down. Something suddenly felt very off. It didn't make sense, though. I was waking up to the person I wanted to spend every second of my life with, and it was Christmas morning. How could I feel anything other than complete happiness?

"Is something wrong?" Dean questioned, pulling his hand away from my hair and moving it to my cheek instead. He always knew.

But, no, there was nothing wrong. Everything was more perfect than I ever would have thought I deserved. And yet, suddenly, it clicked. "This is the first Christmas without..." 

I swallowed hard, unsure of why this sudden realization was so upsetting right at that moment. Dean just looked confused, probably because in addition to not finishing my sentence, I had barely moved my lips. Unable to bring myself to say the words clearly, I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and quickly types one single sentence on a new note before showing it to Dean.

_This is my first Christmas with both of my parents being dead._

Dean's eyes widened when he read that, and after a second of staring at me, he just pulled me in for a hug.

I, of course, began rambling. "He barely ever spent Christmas with us, anyway, so I don't know why I feel like this about it... And I completely ruined the mood... I'm sorry, I don't... I don't now what I'm even thinking..."

Dean pulled away and looked at me sympathetically. "I know you're saying something, angel, but I don't know what it is."

"I don't know, either."

He pushed a few stray strands of hair out of my face. "I know you've been having a hard time, lately, and you know that I've been having kind of a hard time, too. But this is our first Christmas together, and I think that's pretty great."

I nodded in agreement, instantly feeling better. "It is."

We stayed in bed for a long time, not really doing much of anything. Dean played Christmas music on his phone and put his hand over the speaker, trying to guess the songs by feeling the vibrations and asking me if he was correct. He taught me how to say merry Christmas in sign language, and we used the notes app on my phone to talk about random things. I forgot about being sad, and I forgot about being anxious that I got Dean the wrong gift.

Eventually, we had to get dressed if we didn't want our brothers to arrive and be welcomed by us just rolling out of bed. By the time we each pulled on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, Sam and Gabriel had arrived, each carrying a few presents that were promptly placed under the tree.

Despite the fact that we hadn't all known each other for a very long time, nothing felt weird or awkward- not even between Sam and Gabriel, who got each other new video games. Despite this being the first Christmas morning we'd ever had together, it felt right.

Gabriel was incredibly happy about the CDs and junk food that I'd given him, and I was equally as excited about the books he got me. He also gave me gift cards to a few of the fast food places at the food court in the mall so that I could take Dean to lunch, but Gabriel expected me to take him at least once, as well. 

Eventually, there were only two gifts left under the tree. One was for me, from Dean, and the other was the one I'd gotten him.

"Here," Dean said, handing me my gift and smiling. He was sitting next to me on the couch, while Sam and Gabriel sat on some blankets on the floor. "You should open yours first. It's not anything huge, but I think you might like it."

I hadn't even thought about the fact that Dean was getting me something, too. I opened the wrapping paper carefully, very aware that all eyes were on me. When I ripped off the last of the wrapping paper, I was holding a huge picture frame that featured a bunch of random papers arranged as a collage. Except... they _weren't_ just random papers. They were old receipts and scrap pieces of paper with _tons_  of conversations between me and Dean written on them. My jaw dropped as I looked at them all- some deep conversations and some just discussing where we should order dinner from- and I felt myself tear up.

I looked at Dean, lost for words for a few seconds. When I finally spoke, I had to remind myself to slow down so he could read my lips. "I... I can't believe you kept all of these!"

"Of course I did," he replied. "I started keeping them way before I had the idea of making this. One of the perks of having to communicate in unconventional ways is that we can look back on everything."

I admired the gift for a few more dragged out seconds, knowing that I would have to dedicate that whole day after our brothers left to re-reading every conversation. After thanking Dean about a million times, I handed him his gift and hoped for the best.

"Cas wouldn't even _tell_ me what he got Dean," Gabriel said to Sam. "The suspense is killing me, honestly."

Dean opening his gift from me was similar to me opening my gift; as soon as the wrapping paper was discarded, he was holding a picture frame. This one, however, contained a print of multi-colored sound waves and the words _I love you_  below them. I hadn't really known what I was expecting when I sent my voice recording to some website that promised to make something beautiful out of it, but when I'd received the result in the mail, I was pleasantly surprised. 

Most importantly, judging by the look on Dean's face, he loved it. Dean stared at it for a few seconds and then shifted his eyes to me. "Is this... from your voice?"

I swallowed hard and nodded. "I still feel like this isn't enough, but I don't think I would have felt like _anything_ was-"

Dean broke out into a smile and kissed me before I could start rambling on about whatever was going to come out of my mouth, and Sam and Gabriel averted their eyes away, awkwardly agreeing to go search through Dean's cupboards for food. 

"I love this," Dean told me quietly. We were now the only ones in the room. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Dean."

That night, Dean brought me back to my apartment and ended up staying the night after we mutually decided that we didn't want to sleep without each other. We watched movies and went to bed late, and once we were both in bed, I decided that it had been the best Christmas I'd had in a long time. Dean fell asleep easily, and I was feeling like I could fall asleep any second, as well.

Before that, though, I slipped out of bed and went over to kneel on the floor in front of my window, looking up at the moon like I had so many times. Tonight, I didn't want to scream or cry. I couldn't recall a single word that had been shouted out that window, and looking at the moon didn't make my chest ache. It was just... pretty. I wasn't stressed about anything, I wasn't feeling pressured to try and get some sleep. I was content with the way my life was, and I was thankful for the moonlight that was just bright enough so that I could see the freckles on Dean's cheeks. 

"You know, I didn't see that one coming," I said softly, gazing at the moon. "My life changed in a music store. Definitely was not expecting that."

There was nothing for me to rant about, nothing for me to try to get off my chest. I'd never been so happy to be at a loss for words. 

Behind me, I heard Dean roll over in bed and then sit up, awoken by my absence. "Cas? You okay?"

I turned around and nodded. "Yeah."

He smiled at me, and I went to go back to lie next to him. Before I could even take one step, however, I quickly turned back around and, with one last look at the moon, I closed my curtains.


End file.
